Angelus Pennae
by plenoptic
Summary: Kaceystar AU fic Number Three :3 Kaceystar may be the daughter of his best friend, but even a mech like Jetfire can't suppress love. JetfireXKaceystar, contains sticky love. Kaceystar belongs to optimus prime 007.
1. Inconcessus diligo

**Angelus Pennae**

_Plenoptic_

**Another Kaceystar AU fic! This is, of course, assuming that Jetfire is not related to Kaceystar, as he is in optimus prime 007's fantastical fan fiction :3**

**Kaceystar is the exclusive property of optimus prime 007; I just pawn her off to unlikely mechs :3 This was written with op007's permission.**

* * *

The night seemed to spread into eternity, a great black blanket punctured by the light of the stars above. The air was refreshingly cold, and there was just enough of a breeze to make fast flight exhilarating.

"Ever tried a free fall?"

"Ever tried the medical bay?"

"Touche. It's fun, let me show you."

Kaceystar gracefully transformed from her alternate jet mode back into her slender bipedal form, arching an optic ridge at the massive white shuttle nearby. "Are you nuts? My father would kill me!"

The shuttle came apart and back together in a matter of seconds, leaving a grinning Jetfire in its place. "Come on, Optimus has done his share of crazy stuff. Besides, what he doesn't know won't hurt us."

Kacey felt a grin twitch on her face. "How dangerous is it?"

"I'm right here. You don't have to worry about a thing."

She glanced doubtfully at the ground, miles and miles beneath them. Kaceystar wasn't at all the type to back down from any kind of challenge. She loved action, she loved adventure, and she _loved_ flying. But her stunts had nearly gotten her dear little brother killed years ago, and she'd never quite forgotten it.

"It'll be okay," Jetfire assured her quietly, golden optics glimmering at her warmly. "Don't worry."

He reached out a hand to her, and she felt her resolve melting away. Jetfire did have a way of making her feel safe. If he told her not to worry, she wouldn't. She took his hand somewhat hesitantly, and he pulled her flush up against his chest, wrapping his arms around her narrow waist.

"You're getting prettier, kid," he teased gently, and she mock glared at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Just show me this trick of yours." She wrapped her arms around his neck, glancing warily at the ground. "So how does this--work?!"

Jetfire suddenly tipped them upside down and turned off his thrusters. Kacey gasped as she found herself abruptly falling, falling, clenched tightly in his arms as they plummeted through the atmosphere so fast she could actually feel the humidity and temperature changing.

Jetfire let loose a wild, exhilarated cry, folding in his wings to make himself more aerodynamic. Kacey found herself yelling as well, from a combination of excitement and complete terror. The ground was rushing up to meet them far too fast, and faster and faster yet, and she suddenly wondered how they were going to avoid smashing into headfirst.

"Jetfire--"

"Fun, huh?!"

"Jetfire, what happens when we--"

"What?! I can't hear you!"

"_What happens when we get too close to the_--"

Her words cut off with a shriek when Jetfire suddenly flipped over in mid-air, and the thrusters mounted on his legs coughed and spluttered before turning on a full force. They were so close to the ground that the grass was actually flattened by the shock waves.

Just as fast as she'd found herself falling, Kacey now found herself skyrocketing back into the air, Jetfire yelling his excitement the whole way. Nearly a mile and a half up their velocity finally waned, and his thrusters turned back down to a low hum, grumbling at their blatant abuse.

"You are absolutely insane," Kacey breathed, and Jetfire burst into laughter.

"You loved it," he insisted, grinning down at her.

"I thought we were going to die!"

"Best rush ever, right?"

She rested her foreplate on his chest, grumbling quietly. Jetfire continued to laugh, nudging her helm with his.

"Let me go."

"Hey now, don't be like that."

"I said let me go, you idiot."

"We never get to hang out anymore," he pouted, tightening his grip on her. "I thought you were my flying buddy."

"I am your flying buddy," she sighed, looking up at him, and found his face shockingly close to hers. Kacey stilled, blinking up into the twin suns gazing back down at her. Jetfire pulled her closer, lowering his head slowly. She moved one trembling hand to place it along his jaw, marveling at the angular curves of his handsome face.

"Jetfire…mmmn…"

Her words died down when he dipped his head and pressed his mouthplates to hers, kissing her tenderly, passionately. He rumbled quietly when her soft, sweet lips parted, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

"Jetfire," she groaned, torturously pulling her mouth from his. "We can't do this. You know we can't."

"And why is that?" he asked softly, touching his foreplate to hers.

"My dad," she murmured, gazing up into his optics. "You're his friend, Jetfire, he'd be so angry--"

"You're a full grown femme," Jetfire broke in, caressing her face gently. "As much as I respect Optimus--and I really do, Kacey, you know that--this is your decision to make."

"I can't make him unhappy, Jet," she said sadly, lowering her gaze. "I love him too much."

"And, what? You don't love me?" he asked, his voice joking as he stroked her cheek.

"You know I love you," she mumbled, pressing her face into his neck plates. "You know I've always loved you."

He sighed, rubbing her back soothingly. She shuttered her optics, listening to the pulse of his spark. Some small part of her had loved Jetfire from the moment he'd arrived on Earth. The thrill of seeing another bot who loved to fly as much as she did had been captivating. It was that shared love that brought them together as friends--as first. They'd flown together all the time; he'd showed her aerial stunts that she'd never dreamed possible, and she taught him how to use those skills to his advantage in battle.

Kaceystar was used to living in a militant environment. The base was almost always busy and tense. All of her friends were soldiers or the children of soldiers; Kacey had been raised fully expecting to one day join the Autobot ranks as a warrior. She was used to warrior seriousness and warrior mentality--and then Jetfire had come along.

Jetfire was like the wind itself. Fresh and bold and completely uninhibited by any obstacle. He went where he pleased, did whatever he wanted. He spoke his mind and held nothing back, whether it was joy or sadness or rage. Kacey had never seen a side of Jetfire that didn't fascinate her. When he was happy, he absolutely seemed to glow. When he was sad, she could feel her own spark aching. When he was angry, it was as though he could incinerate everything in his path.

He was captivating. She felt as if she knew him better than she knew herself, and yet she couldn't understand him. What fascinated her the most was how well Jetfire seemed to know _himself_. He was never unsure, never hesitant in anything he did. His confidence couldn't be diminished, his optimism couldn't be swayed. Jetfire knew _exactly_ who and what he was, and he never faltered. Never. Kacey had always struggled a little in that area; she had always been unsure of her worth as an Autobot, of her rightfullness to take the Matrix someday.

"We'd better get you back," Jetfire sighed, loosening his grip on her. "It's nearly dawn; Optimus will be looking for you."

"Can't we stay just a little longer?" she pled quietly.

"We're out of time, bud," he chided gently. "It's time to go."

She followed him back to base dejectedly, wanting more than anything to remain in the sky with him, cradled in his warm arms.

Kacey couldn't help but stare at him as he walked her back to her quarters. He was such a handsome mech. His face had a cute charm, but there was definitely serious masculinity in it as well. His body was sleek and strong, perfectly built for a flier of his caliber. She'd always admired his chest and shoulders, both broad and powerful. And his wings--she sometimes wondered if Primus had made those wings especially for him. They were white, whiter than any white she'd ever seen, clean and unmarred by scars or dirt. They moved with the slightest stimulation, always tasting the air as though looking for any wind on which to fly.

They reminded her of an angel's wings.

Jetfire suppressed a sigh as they arrived at her quarters, and had just opened his mouth to bid her farewell when he suddenly felt the brush of her fingertips on his wing joints. He froze, stiffening slowly when her other hand caressed his right wing, stroking the smooth panels gently, tenderly. Placing one hand on the wall for support, he shuttered his optics, unable to hold back a small moan when her nimble fingers dove into the joint, fondling the thick circuit bundles beneath.

"Kacey," he hissed sharply, arching his back against her touch. "Kacey, you need to--_make up your mind_!"

He pulled away from her torturously, turning on his heel to stare down the small femme. "Kacey! For the love of Primus, a few minutes ago you were chastising me for kissing you--and now you decide to feel me up in the hallway? Are you alright with _us_ or aren't you?"

She shrunk slightly, biting her lower lip and gazing at his feet. "I'm sorry…I was just thinking about you on the way back, and…"

There was a pause, and she lifted her gaze back up to his. He felt his spark clench. She was such a beautiful femme. Her faceplate was even more stunning than Elita's, the optics a deeper blue even than Optimus's. And her body…his optics briefly roved over her, taking in her sinewy throat, the pretty breastplate, the narrow waist, gently sloping hips, and curvaceous legs.

Kacey must have seen the flash of lust in his optics, for she moved forward suddenly, placing her hands on the sides of his helm and pressing her hot mouth to his, kissing him intently. His hands were on her a second, gripping her waist and pulling her up against him, mouth kissing her back fervently. Kacey moaned, eagerly moving her body against his. Jetfire backed her into the wall, pinning her with his girth.

"Yes or no?" he asked roughly, placing a hand on her thigh. "Yes or no, femme?"

"Yes," she moaned softly, trying to pull his lips back to hers. "Yes, Jetfire, please…"

"I need you to be sure," he whispered, brushing his mouthplates against hers. "I need to _know_ that you're sure…"

"I want you, Jetfire," she breathed, pulling her foreplate to his. "I want you so badly. Please, _please_."

"Your dad?"

"This is my call," she said firmly. "My decision. I want this. I love you, Jetfire."

He surveyed her for a moment more before firmly clamping his mouth over hers, claiming the femme in his arms as his own. His spark roared, some predatory surfacing within him. He growled softly, pressing into her harder, and she reached out one hand to shakily type in the codes for her door. Jetfire pulled her inside before it was even open all the way, shutting it firmly and engaging all of the locks.

"I'm just going to come out and be blunt about it," he murmured, turning back to his gorgeous femme. "I want to make love to you."

"I don't know how," she whispered. "I've never…"

"Do you want to?"

"I do, I really do, but…"

"Then don't worry about a thing," he interrupted, grabbing her once more and kissing her lovingly. "I'll be gentle, I guide you through the whole thing. Just kiss me back, sweetspark…"

Kacey wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing the mech eagerly, her engine revving softly when he scooped her up and carried her to her berth.

"Nice," Jetfire snorted, glancing around at the many colorful cushions that adorned her berth.

"Mom bought them," Kacey explained quickly, her faceplates flushing darkly. "It's kind of embarrassing…"

"It's cute," Jetfire rumbled, grinning down at her. "You want foreplay or shall I just take you now?"

"I've never done foreplay before," she said thoughtfully. "Could we try some of that?"

"Promise you won't smack me?"

"Why would I do that?"

He grinned broadly before placing a hand on her breastplates. Kacey stiffened, a little unsure, but relaxed the moment his broad fingers began to caress her gently. A soft whine broke loose from her processor, and she squirmed a little, optics darkening when his touch grew a little more firm.

"Jetfire," she breathed, leaning her head back and shuttering her optics. "Mmm…"

Jetfire couldn't hold back a soft growl as he touched her. He'd never had a femme as beautiful as Kacey laid out underneath him before. It was exhilarating, the combination of incredible lust and passion. Tenderly, he laid down on top of her, lowering his mouthplates to her audio.

"I love you," he told her in a whisper, nuzzling the side of her head. "I love you, Kacey…"

At her soft sigh he moved his mouth downward, kissing her jaw before pressing his lips to her throat. She squirmed against him, so he bit in gently, relishing in the moan he felt beneath his denta. Kacey lifted her hands, touching him experimentally before slipping her fingers back into the joint of his wings. Jetfire gave a harsh cry, wriggling desperately against her digits. She began to stroke the wires, playing with the sensitive protoform.

The temperature in the room seemed to skyrocket as passion blossomed between them. Jetfire kissed her throat with hungry, open-mouthed caresses while her delicate hands danced over and beneath his wings, stimulating him until he felt like his codpiece would snap under the sudden pressure his rod was exerting on it.

"Frag," she groaned, squirming uncomfortably. "Mmm…Jetfire…it's _hot_…"

He pressed a hand to her lower abdomen and smiled at the intense heat that met his palm. "Retract your panel, love," he requested, his voice growing husky. The panel slid away immediately, heat from her port radiating on his hand. He caressed the rim of her port experimentally, wrenching a cry from the throat of the desperately aroused femme.

"Jetfire," she moaned, moving her hips toward his hand. "Oh, please…"

"Please what?" he asked, his voice low and rough. His rod swelled uncomfortably at her soft, delicious moans and quiet pleas.

"Please…I w-want…"

"You want what, dearest?"

"I want…y-you…please…I want to make love…with you…"

He kissed her tenderly, lavishing attention on her hot, sweet mouth. Gently, so as not to hurt her, he slid a finger into her port. The femme arched against his chest, crying out sharply.

"Am I hurting you?" he inquired softly.

"Oh, Primus, no," she gasped feverishly, her optic shutters fluttering. "Primus, it feels _good_…"

Smiling, happy that he was pleasing her, Jetfire began to pump his finger in and out experimentally. He bit his lip to restrain a moan when he imagined what her impossibly tight port was going to feel like around his rod. He carefully inserted a second finger, cautiously stretching her port. He'd never taken a virgin before, but he knew how sensitive a new port was. And there was no Pit he was going to ruin this by being overeager and causing her pain.

"Enough with that," she growled, her fingers digging into his wings joints. "Frag me now."

"Your order is my command," he laughed softly, kissing her jaw sweetly. "We need to go slow, okay?"

"Fine, fine, just do it already," she panted, thrusting against his fingers. He removed his digits obligingly, licking her sweet lubricants from his fingertips. Kacey released a moan at the overly erotic scene.

Finally, gratefully, Jetfire removed his crotchplate, allowing his interface cord to extend fully. Kacey's optics widened at the sight of his massive rod, swollen with his arousal.

"Primus," she breathed. "Will it…fit?"

"I hope so," he joked, but quickly assured her that it would at the look of terror on her faceplates. "Tell me if I hurt you, I'll stop right away."

"I don't want you to stop," she broke in, and he laughed.

"You don't even know what it feels like yet!"

"And whose fault is that?" she demanded.

"Enough talk," he ordered softly, kissing her once more, delving his glossa into her mouth to silence any further words.

The passion was rekindled almost instantly. Kacey returned his kisses with equal fervor, caressing his glossa with hers and licking his lips lightly. Jetfire nudged his crotch against hers, rumbling when his swollen rod encountered a very wet port. He maneuvered his hips carefully, situating the head of his rod at her port, before pushing in slowly.

Kacey broke their kiss, letting loose a desperate gasp as her mech entered her. Jetfire released a long, low moan, pressing his lips to her breastplate when her port contracted around him. He sheathed himself completely, relishing the feel of her hot, wet port before pulling out and thrusting himself back in. Kacey cried out, arching into him, changing his angle of entry. His rod rubbed against the delicate central node within her port, making her sob incoherently as he continued to thrust into her gently.

"More," she pled desperately, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "Oh, please, Jetfire…_Jetfire_…"

He shuttered his optics, hips pumping into hers at a faster pace. Kaceystar, beneath him, moaning his name in the dark…the wonderful feel of the friction against her tight port, her hands caressing his wings desperately…

She gave the sweetest cry when she overloaded, arching into him long and hard as she rode out her climax. Jetfire thrust harder and faster, coming with a roar and spilling transfluid within her. They trembled and gasped, clutching one another as the euphoric rush ebbed away.

"Love you," Jetfire mumbled, kissing her gently. Kacey kissed him back tenderly, cradling his face in her warm hands. He pulled out of her carefully, replacing both of their crotchplates before curling himself around her, pulling her small frame into a gentle embrace.

"Are you going to tell your dad?" he asked softly, stroking her back, and she sighed.

"I don't know. I mean, there's nothing he can do, but I don't want him to be disappointed. I don't want him to be upset."

"Optimus is in love too, you know," he reminded her, resting his foreplate against hers. "He understands."

"But you're his friend," she said sadly. "He might be angry with you…"

"We'll deal with that when the time comes," he soothed, caressing her face. "I don't regret any of it, Kacey. No matter what happens, I want you."

She nodded slowly, snuggling closer to him. Jetfire. It was surreal to think that she was here in his arms, that they'd just made love together, that he cared for her as much as she cared for him. Surreal to think that she really may have found the mech she wanted to spend the rest of her eternity with…

"Did it hurt?" she asked softly.

"Did what hurt?" he replied, confused.

"When Primus sent you down to me."

He rolled his optics, chuckling quietly. "You're a bit of a dork, you know that?"

"Are you an angel, Jetfire?"

"Not that I know of. But if I ever get a letter from my folks telling me I'm actually an abandoned angel that they found on their doorstep, you'll be the first to know."

She smiled serenely, sighing in content when he cuddled her close. Unshuttering her optics lazily, she gazed distantly over his shoulder--and her spark froze.

"…Oh, no."

"What?"

"…Jetfire. The security camera is on."

* * *

**Aw, shiz. More to come :3**


	2. Certamen

**Certamen**

_Plenoptic_

**Gah…I've been writing and rewriting this chapter and I just can't get the opening right. **

**Armada Jetfire and Red Alert.**

**Inconcenssus diligo is "Forbidden Love" in Latin. This chapter title's translation next chapter :D**

* * *

Red Alert didn't quite know what to make of it.

He'd known for Jetfire for a very long time. A bit longer than he cared to admit, actually. And in that span of time he'd come to understand that Jetfire was, as the humans so eloquently put it, a "skirt chaser." Jetfire loved femmes, loved interfacing and kissing and spending time with them. He was an attractive and humorous mech who got along well with females.

But in spite of all that, Red Alert had never really imagined that Jetfire would ever…fall in love, per se. He'd always assumed that Jet would see it as a restraint, something to hold him down, and there was nothing a flier hated more than chains of any kind. Jetfire had never been able to settle down; on Cybertron, he'd refused to live on base, instead skipping around from apartment to apartment in Iacon. Girlfriends had come and gone within the blink of an optic until everyone gave up trying to keep track of Jetfire's love life.

Red Alert leaned back in his seat, spun around in it a few times (wheelie chairs were certainly an ingenious invention, to the humans' credit). The security officer slash medbot was famous for his calm and straight forward attitude in any situation, but this…this threw even Red for a loop.

He supposed he ought to tell someone. Not Optimus, certainly, Red had known the commander as long as he'd known Jetfire and he knew Optimus's temper. Optimus and Jetfire were the best of friends, but Optimus loved his daughter more than life itself. No, telling the big bot was definitely out of the question.

For a while Red Alert pondered telling Hotshot--the mech was best described in human terms as a "gossip whore"--and vetoed that idea quickly. Delicate situations called for delicate handling, and Hotshot's method of problem resolution was anything but delicate. Said method generally called for grabbing anything in the vicinity that was passable as a weapon and bashing the slag out of the "problem" (which was usually a Decepticon, and in that sense the method was fantastic, up until the point where Jetfire and Optimus had to leap in and save their comrade's over enthusiastic aft).

Red Alert only managed to decide that someone definitely needed to confront Jetfire. Not scold him, but learn his motives and his reasoning. Jetfire was a good mech, he was kind to femmes whether he was with them or not, but he wasn't a saint. He'd had his share of "one night stands." Red Alert couldn't believe that Jetfire would use Kaceystar, but the flier had proven himself to be unpredictable enough that one could never be too sure.

But who could get the mech to talk? Kup had been a good mentor to all of them, but he wasn't as close to Jetfire as he was to Optimus or his friends. Ultra Magnus was the same. Neither of them had ever truly understood Jetfire, had never really gotten through to him on an emotional level. Jet respected them and looked up to them, but they were not his teachers, his role models.

Red Alert sighed heavily. He, Hotshot, Jetfire, and Optimus had once made up one of the most uncoordinated and unorthodox deep-space teams in recorded history (next time Optimus set off to rescue a minibot species, Red would make sure he wasn't involved in any way)--how ironic that to solve this problem, Red would be forced to call in their fifth member…

* * *

He trudged down the hallway, several tons of grumpy, irritable, drowsy mech. His green and brown paint was flecked with dirt and mud, his exhaust caked with grime, armor streaked with all manner of organic matter.

Scavenger was in a horrible mood on account of one fact--

He'd just been awoken from a nap.

Young bots just didn't _get_ it. He didn't have the energy to run around for days on end like Optimus or Jetfire or Hotshot; he needed to recharge whenever he could squeeze it in. Scavenger's frame had been created before energon was being mined and refined efficiently, and therefore he took much more of it to run properly, and easily needed two to three times as much recharge. Ironhide, Ratchet, Kup, and the other bots his age had all had their frames upgraded and remodeled, but Scavenger simply didn't feel like putting forth the effort. So what if he had to put in extra recharge. He was fine just as he was.

Yawning, he yanked open the door to the rec room (he still hadn't quite grasped the concept that they opened on their own) and stomped his way in, optics scanning the room quickly to search out his prey.

Jetfire was lounging on the couch in the back of the room, surrounded by the twins, Bumblebee, and Kacey, who were deeply involved in a game of poker. The flier had his feet up on the table, and was holding up fingers behind Kacey's back to indicate to Sunstreaker what cards she was holding (they still hadn't managed to beat her and her damned poker face in a fair fight).

"You," Scavenger grunted, and Jetfire lifted his head instinctively. "You" had been his only designation for the many, many vorns it took for Scavenger to actually remember his name.

"Hey there, big guy," he said cheerfully, flashing three fingers to Sunny. Kacey, seeing the movement on her peripheral vision, glanced back at him, and he shrugged innocently. Clearly suspicious, she turned back to the game. "You wanna play?" Jetfire inquired, glancing back up at his old teacher.

"No," Scavenger grunted. "Outside. Now."

Jetfire arched an optic ridge, grinning behind his mask. "Aw, did someone wake you up in the middle of a snooze? You know, Scav, I'm sure the recruits would appreciate it if you slept on your own time, their training is kind of impor--"

"NOW," Scavenger repeated, his voice a low, dangerous growl, and Jetfire visibly flinched.

"Okay, okay…geez…" He got up from his seat, patted Kacey's shoulder when she glanced back at him, and seemingly waved to Sunny--but was actually indicating that Kacey was holding a five.

"Straight," Sunny muttered absently, but before Kacey could turn to yell at Jetfire, Scavenger had effectively dragged the hapless mech out the door.

Exactly one point two breems later, Jetfire found himself fidgeting uncomfortably while in Scavenger's quarters. The old mech had opened up a cube of high grade, thrown himself onto his berth, and gone completely silent.

"…Well?" Jetfire questioned, seating himself cautiously. "What'd you want?"

"Talk," Scavenger grunted, taking a swig of the high grade and shuttering his optics.

"About what?"

"About last night."

The silence that followed was awkward--more so for Jetfire, who had been unprepared for such a conversation, but Scavenger had known from the beginning that this was going to suck slag.

"What about last night?" Jetfire replied after a few moments, and Scavenger snorted.

"Last night as in screwing around with Prime's kid."

"…Oh. That last night."

"Yeah. That last night."

Another silence. Scavenger yawned and scratched dried dirt off his chassis. Jetfire continued to fidget.

"…How'd you know?"

"I have magical powers."

"Scav."

"Red Alert saw the footage on the security cameras. He told me."

"Ah." Jetfire sank back in his seat, sending a quick text message to Kacey.

_--IT WAS RED ON DUTY LAST NIGHT._

_--Oh crap. Has he told Dad yet?_

_--DUNNO. BUT HE TOLD SCAVENGER. IF HE DID TELL OPT, I'M GUESSING I'D BE DEAD RIGHT NOW. JUST PLAY IT COOL._

_--You're the one being interrogated, follow your own advice._

_--VERY COMFORTING. THANKS._

"I haven't told Optimus, just in case she's wondering," Scavenger said loudly, and Jetfire jumped, opening his mouth, but Scavenger pounced on the question before he could voice it. "Kid, I know you. It's kinda suspicious that you're so concerned about Optimus finding out, I gotta tell ya."

"Optimus is crazy protective of her," Jetfire replied quietly, lowering his optics to the ground. Scavenger was damn good at making him feel ashamed of himself. "Plus, I…I kind of felt like I was betraying him."

"You did betray him," Scavenger grunted, throwing down the rest of his high grade. "Running around with his daughter behind his back? You betrayed his trust."

Jetfire flinched, optics dimming. Ouch.

"Just own up to it, kid," Scavenger said softly, sitting up and reaching out to grasp his young protégé's shoulder gently. "Tell him how you feel. You're his best friend so yes, he'll be upset, but he'll also be more inclined to believe you."

"I guess so," Jetfire mumbled.

"Look, you love this girl?"

Jetfire looked up, optics brightening. "More than anything."

"Then do what you gotta do," Scavenger said firmly. "Come on now, runt, I know I raised an idiot, but I sure as hell didn't raise a coward."

Jetfire grinned, getting to his feet and crossing his arms over his chest. "No sir, Scav--you raised none of the above."

* * *

Kaceystar poked her head nervously in through the door. It was kind of strange to see Jetfire working. He was bent over his desk (since when did he have a desk?) optic ridges knitted in concentration, intensely golden optics narrowed slightly. He was a professional slacker, as he liked to say, but he was Optimus's right hand bot. The sub commander. Prowl may have been second in command, but Kacey had heard from many a mech that Jetfire was the one in control when Optimus and Elita were absent.

Kacey leant her head against the doorframe, unable to suppress a smile as she watched him. Primus, she loved him. Loved the way he shifted his wings, loved the way he cocked his head to the right when he was thinking and to the left when he was listening to his commlink. She loved that he'd refused to change his optic color to blue like the other Autobots, preferring to keep them the color of the sun.

"Kacey?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice, grinning awkwardly. "Oh. Uh…hi. I just thought I'd drop in…and say hello. Or something."

Jetfire smiled, pushing his chair away from his desk and opening up his arms. "I missed you, too."

She beamed, closing his door before hurrying forward and scrambling into his lap. Jetfire pulled her close, his burly arms wrapping tightly around her upper back to pin her solidly to his chest. Her optics shuttered of their own accord, her audios searching for the soft beat of his pump.

"Do you have some time?" she inquired softly, and he sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry, Kase, I don't--I'm completely swamped here."

She frowned. "I was hoping we could go flying…"

"I'm sorry," he said again, nuzzling the top of her helm apologetically. "I really am, Kacey, but duty calls, you know?"

"I know," she replied, a soft puff of air floating from her intakes. "Tonight?"

"…Yeah. Yeah, you can count on me tonight. Halo at my place?" he teased, nudging her belly. Kacey had a secret video game obsession and he knew it.

"…Can we play the Flood level on Champion?"

"We can play it on Super Champion."

"There's no such thing."

"Not the way I play," he said with a grin, and she couldn't help but laugh, pressing her face into his neckplates.

Jetfire quieted after a moment, growing serious. "Kacey. I think I'm going to tell your dad tonight."

She jerked back in shock, staring at him with wide optics. "You _what_? Are you insane?"

"I don't want to hide anything from him. I know you don't want to either," Jetfire said quietly, taking her face in his hands. "Listen. Optimus may be my friend, but he's also my commander. He's my leader. I've followed him in and out of blackholes, we've dragged one another off the battlefield. I've followed him to hell and back countless times. We're a team, your dad and I, and I can't do something like this without his blessing."

"'Something like this'?" she repeated, optics narrowing. "You make it sound so scandalous."

"Running around behind the Prime's back with his daughter?" Jetfire inquired, his optic ridges raising slightly. "Well, yeah, that sounds pretty scandalous to me."

"For the love of Primus, Jetfire, it's not like I'm just a piece of aft that you've rented," she growled, climbing off his lap to stand squarely in front of him, fists on her hips. "This is a relationship, isn't it?"

"Kacey," Jetfire sighed patiently. Primus, she was young! "How furious would you be if, say, Nitro went running around with your daughter?"

Kacey hesitated, taken aback by his question. He folded his arms over his chest, lifting his chin a little. Victorious.

"Now imagine that you found out by accident, that they'd been seeing one another without telling you? You'd immediately think that Nitro was taking advantage of her, now wouldn't you?"

"…I suppose," Kacey mumbled, lowering her optics.

"There you go. Now, the difference between that scenario and that one is that this is your father we're talking about. He's a mech. His natural instincts are to rip apart anything that he registers as a threat to his family. And not only are you his family, but you're also a femme, and there's that other troublesome male tendency to _violently_ rip apart anything that threatens a femme. And then of course we have to remember that this is Optimus Prime we're talking about. Now, Unicron I can handle, I've done that before, but your dad? That's a different story."

"You've fought Unicron?" Kacey broke in, stunned.

"Well, yeah, there was a thing a long, _long_ time ago…anyway, Kase--"

"You never told me that!"

Jetfire sighed, rubbing his foreplate. "Yeah, Unicron started making trouble and Optimus's boys had to beat him back. Hotshot and I lead a whole battalion into the fight, and--look, can we just stay focused on the now, please? I don't wanna talk about the past."

Kacey sighed, taking a seat on the edge of his desk and looking down at her lap. "You really wanna tell my dad?"

"I think it'd be for the best."

"And what if he doesn't condone it? What if he tells you to stay the frag away from me? What if he strips you of rank?"

"Then that's all there is to it," Jetfire said heavily. "I don't think he'd pull my rank, though. He'd have to find himself another aerial commander, sub commander, not to mention Powerlink partner--"

"Wait, _what_?"

"He'd have to find another Powerlink partner. And anyway, you can't pull rank based on relationship status, he'd be liable for a court martial--"

"You never told me that you and Dad could Powerlink!"

"Didn't strike me as that big a deal," Jetfire replied. "Anyway, that was a long time ago also, it's not like we've tried it here on Earth."

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?" Kacey inquired, arching one optic ridge.

Jetfire stared at her for a moment, bewildered, then his optics narrowed into a glare. "Kacey. It's not like these are deep, dark secrets. I've been fighting a war for a long time now, alright? I've only known you for a few years, of course there's stuff about me you don't know."

"Fighting Unicron and being my dad's intimate partner kinda strike me as monumental stuff," she snorted, folding her arms across her chest.

"I was not his _intimate partner_, we could Powerlink. Lots of mechs and femmes alike do it. It was battle strategy."

"A Powerlink is a complete sharing of thoughts, feelings, even physical awareness," Kacey argued. "I've done it myself, remember? With Roller. Seems pretty intimate to me. Seems like you'd miss it a little."

Jetfire sighed, turning his gaze out the window. "Sure, fine. Optimus and I were closer when we were combat partners, and yes, I do miss that closeness. Having someone to depend on was nice. Having someone know all my feelings without me having to sit down and talk about it was nice. But that's not the point, Kacey, can we _please_ focus on you and me now?"

She sat in silence for a moment, optics drifting randomly over his frame. "I barely know you," she said quietly.

"You know everything you need to," he said swiftly. "Trust me. The skeletons in my closet aren't anything that you need to worry about. We've all got them, right? I know you do, too," he said, and she flinched.

"Alright, Jetfire," she sighed, reaching out to him, and he took her small hands in his large, powerful ones. Hands that could probably snap her in half, regardless of her powerful frame and stronger alloys. Hands that had been so remarkably tender for such a seasoned warrior. "If you want to tell my dad, you should tell my dad. But…give me tonight, alright?"

"Hm?"

She leaned in closer, brushing her mouth plates over his mask. "Make love to me again tonight. Give me this one last night if my dad won't give us his blessing."

Jetfire relaxed, nuzzling his noseplates against hers. "Alright. I can sure give you that much, kiddo."

* * *

"What's this flick called, anyway?"

"_Terminator_."

"…Huh. And what's the plot again?"

"This guy's just trying to keep this evil race of robots from enslaving human kind, or something."

"Uh-_huh_. And you are suggesting that we watch this mindless slaughtering of our race because…?"

"They're not like us, Jetfire," Kacey laughed, tightening her embrace. "They're programmed to destroy, they don't have sparks. And none of them are even remotely good looking."

"Ah." Jetfire smiled, leaning back to gaze up at her. "Then why are you interested?"

"Well, I have a good looking mech right here, I hardly need one on-screen," she purred, nuzzling her noseplates against his. He was seated beside his recharge berth, while she was laid out upon it on her stomach, her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her head resting comfortably beside his. The room was dark save for the flashes of light emitted by his giant mounted TV screen.

"Are you sure you made peace with Scavenger?" she inquired worriedly, and he deflated at the sudden change in mood.

"I'm not sure 'made peace' is the right term, but I think I got him off of our backs for awhile," he sighed, reaching one hand up to gently stroke her face. "He told me to come clean to Optimus and I'm sure that he'll eventually start pushing again, but hey, I told you not to worry, I've got it under control."

"I'm part of this relationship too, I can help," she insisted, but he shook his head.

"Nah. I don't want any of this to fall on you. In the end, it'll just be a bunch of stupid mechs thinking they all know what's best for you. Follow your own spark, Kacey, and let me take care of the dissenters."

Kacey released a puff of air from her intakes, resting her head against his and shuttering her optics.

"How does anyone get any lovin' done around here if the security cameras are on at night?" Jetfire questioned, leaning his head back.

"I think Dad just contacts whoever is on monitors and tells them that he's shutting his off when he and Mom want 'alone time,'" Kacey responded distantly. "Of course, if anyone else wants them off, they've got to explain what they're up to. I'd have to come up with some excuse."

"You could always say that you and your buddies are playing strip poker," Jetfire suggested, and Kacey snorted into his neck plating. "How much longer until the cameras come on?"

"A couple breems," she replied softly.

"You tired?"

"A little."

"C'mere," Jetfire instructed, opening his arms. She moved down from the berth, and he hoisted her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and placing his chin on her helm.

"No, Jet, I'm fine," she mumbled. "We haven't got much time left…"

"Hush. We've got all the time in the world. Tomorrow night and the night after that and the night after that. You recharge, I'll wake you before the cameras come online, and we'll get you back to your quarters."

"…Hn," she assented after a moment, snuggling into his embrace. "Jet?"

"Yeah?"

"Love you."

He smiled, lowering his head to softly kiss her foreplate. "Love you too, kiddo. Now, recharge. I'll wake you up when it's time to go."

* * *

The sparring room was always rowdy on work days. Mechs came in before and after their shifts to get ready for the new day or begin to unwind. The officers were required to put in time in the sparring ring to keep their skills sharp, while recruits were encouraged to put in time just for the practice.

More than training, however, the sparring ring was a good place to settle old scores.

"You give yet?"

"Frag no, you stupid aft!"

Optimus tightened his grip, further wrenching back Jetfire's arm. "How about now?"

"You no good son of a glitch! I'm gonna tear off your ball bearings and shove them up your--OUCH!"

"Sorry, what was that? I must have missed it while you were screaming like a femme."

"Frag you!"

Laughter rang from the mechs and femmes lounging around the ring, all watching the match with amusement. Jetfire was trapped flat on his stomach with his commander and best friend easily straddling him in front of his wing joint, arms hooked around the shuttle's to lock him in place. Jetfire had been squirming for a good three breems, but hadn't managed to do more than scoot around in an awkward circle.

"In my professional opinion, he's got you beat," Scavenger harrumphed from the sidelines.

"You frag off, Scav, chances are you'll fall into recharge before the match is over," Jetfire panted, glaring at his old mentor.

"Pin him harder, Optimus."

"OW! I hate you guys!"

"Oh, hey, while you've got him pinned there," Ratchet called from the side, "he's long overdue for his injections, I'll run and get my syringe--"

"OPTIMUS, GET THE FRAG OFF, HE'S TALKING NEEDLES!"

Optimus laughed deeply, swinging one leg over and releasing his iron hold on his best friend. "Come on, Jetfire, I know you can do better than that."

"Shut up, I'm just a little off today," Jetfire grumped, bucking his commander off before standing and stretching his aching hydraulics.

"And why is that?"

"Late night."

Optimus arched an optic ridge. "Oh? And what were you up to?"

Jetfire grunted noncommittally, accepting the towel Hotshot threw him from the sidelines and mopping coolant from his overheated frame. The spectators, recognizing that the match was over, were either beginning to disperse or prepare another match. Jetfire watched his commander warily as Optimus wiped down, shaking droplets of coolant from his massive frame. As though sensing his best friend's lingering gaze, he lifted his head.

"What's up?"

Jetfire looked away quickly, embarrassed. "Nothing. Um, something. Er…I kinda have something I need to talk to you about."

Prime arched one optic ridge. "Oh? What's wrong, Jetfire?"

"…You have to promise not to kill me here."

Optimus's optics narrowed marginally, but a wry smile touched his faceplates. "Oh, boy. What did you do this time, Jetfire?"

Jetfire was silent for a moment. Now wasn't really the best time to tell him, but there _were_ plenty of witnesses around. "I…um…I'm kind of…I'm seeing Kacey."

Optimus blinked stupidly, face blank. "Uh?" he managed to get out.

"Look, it's not as bad as you think, I'm really in love with her, and she's got feelings for me too, and we've been spending time together and I think she might be my spark mate, I mean, I want to spend my life with her, and--"

_**WHAM**_.

The blow came so fast and so hard that Jetfire didn't even have time to register what had happened before he was flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, which was spinning. He vaguely registered an inability to move his jaw properly. He sat up dizzily, blinking around at the blurry room, when a thick silver hand shot forward and yanked him up by the chest plates.

"_**YOU'VE GOT A LOT OF **__**NERVE**__**, YOU KNOW THAT?!**_"

The fist connected roughly with his jaw, and Jetfire found himself on his aft once more. He removed his mask with one shaking hand, spitting energon from his mouth. Optimus Prime was towering over him, a pillar of rage, literally trembling with fury.

"_How __**dare**__ you,_" he snarled softly, his optics near white, narrowed to slits. His voice was dangerously low. "_How __**DARE**__ you take advantage of her!_"

"Boss--" Jetfire tried to interject, but then Optimus's foot connected solidly with his gut, throwing him onto his back with a grunt. He rolled over onto his stomach and scrambled to his feet, whirling around just in time to take another fist to the noseplates. Stumbling back, optics watering with the pain, energon pouring from his face, he scowled at his fuming best friend.

"Dammit, Optimus, you picked a hell of a time to be a complete jackass!" Jetfire swore viciously, wiping his mouth and flicking the bright blue energon onto the ground. "Listen to me for one second!"

"I've heard enough," Optimus snarled, charging forward, and Jetfire braced himself for impact. Their combined mass threw them both into the spectator's ring, leaving several mechs yelping and scrambling to get out of the way as their commander and his right hand bot kicked, bit, and punched every inch of the other male that they could find.

Optimus was beside himself with fury. His best friend indeed! What kind of best friend would run around taking advantage of his leader's innocent daughter?!

Other mechs had more than taken notice of the spectacle, and a smattering of murmurs had broke out. The twins grinned at one another while Hotshot stood stunned for a moment before shaking his head and hurrying towards his best friends.

"Alright, you guys, cut it out!" he urged, inching towards the vicious tangle of mech. "This is stupid, what the hell are you two fighting about?!"

"Just shut up, man, please," Jetfire panted, bringing a knee up into Optimus's stomach to cease the hailstorm of fists attacking his face. "Hey, on second thought, get someone to get this crazy bastard off of me?!"

Hotshot frowned. "You shouldn't talk about Optimus like--"

"HOTSHOT!"

"Oh, right. Sorry. Um, Scavenger! Hey, help!"

The immense mech heaved himself up from his seat (he'd been rather enjoying watching his favorite protégés beat each other to death) and stomped his way over to the quarreling twosome, a low growl rolling in his throat.

"Optimus. For the love of Primus, what the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

Prime paid his mentor no heed, much more preoccupied with pounding Jetfire into a bloody pulp. Something inside the flier snapped then, and with a roar he threw his weight against his leader, throwing them both backwards and into the ring.

"_What the hell do you think you're doing, soldier_?" Optimus snarled.

"I'm doing whatever the _hell_ I want!" Jetfire retorted, optics blazing. "I'm doing whatever I want, you stupid prick!"

Hotshot grimaced and covered his optics as the two mechs collided once more, struggling to pin the other to the ground. The other bots in the room had fallen silent, ogling the sight in complete shock. They'd never seen Optimus nor Jetfire fight so viciously. Optimus was making good use of his knees, as Jetfire was on top of him; Jetfire, meanwhile, was allowing his fists to pummel every inch of metal within reach.

Optimus suddenly snorted in surprise, one hand flying to the side of his neck. Jetfire paused in confusion, one fist held up above his head, when he felt a sharp sting in his side. He looked down and was surprised to see a small dart embedded in the gaps between his armor. The world began to dim, and he felt his arms and legs going lax…

With a heavy groan, he collapsed forward, leaving two immense mechs offlined in the sparring ring.

"Whew," Elita One sighed, handing a stunned Ratchet his dart gun. "See, that's how it's done, Scavenger."

"I knew he bonded with ya for a reason," the older mech chuckled, stepping into the ring with her and dragging Jetfire's dozing form off of the Autobot commander. There was energon everywhere, and both mechs were covered in dents, dings, and various other wounds. "They did quite a number on each other."

"But what the frag were they fighting about?" Elita wondered, picking up the long-forgotten towel and tenderly mopping Optimus's bloodied face.

"Aw, who knows. They get like this every couple of vorns. Unpredictable that way," Scavenger grunted, heaving Jetfire up and struggling to hold him. "Hotshot, get over here and help me, runt. Ratch, better prepare a coupla tables for the idiots."

"Way ahead of you," Ratchet sighed, turning and hurrying out the door. Ultra Magnus stepped forward from the gaping crowd to pull Optimus up, dragging his unconscious commander toward the med bay, an amused Elita trotting along at his side.

* * *

Somewhere nearby, an insect was buzzing. He swatted at it irritably, trying to roll over, but something was holding his head in place. He pawed at an audio, trying to get the incessant buzzing to cease, but it only seemed to grow louder. And clearer. Jetfire growled, pulling against his restraints, but was too far gone to feel the gentle hand on his shoulder, holding him down.

"Primus, they're morons," Ratchet sighed, wiping his hands as he came to stand by Jetfire's bedside, where Kacey had been sitting for most of the night. "Don't worry, Kacey, I've been running diagnostics all night. There's no lasting damage."

"And my dad?" she inquired, tearing her optics from her beloved to blink owlishly up at the medic. "He's okay too?"

"Better off than Jetfire. I don't suppose you have any idea what brought on that little skirmish to begin with?" Ratchet asked suspiciously, arching an optic ridge when Kacey turned her face away. "Well. If you're not feeling talkative about that…how long have you and Jetfire been seeing one another?"

She jerked in surprise, whirling around to stare up at him. "How did you…?"

"I've seen hundreds of lovestruck little femmes in my lifetime," he snorted, waving a hand dismissively. "How long?"

"Just a few days," she murmured, lowering her optics to look back at Jetfire's slumbering face, covered in temporary weld patches and thick tape. There was a brace encircling his head, holding his shattered jaw in place while Ratchet's injection of nanobots did their work. "He must've told Dad…"

"That would explain it," Ratchet mused, pulling up a chair to sit down beside her. "Aw, well, it could've been worse. At least Optimus didn't have his gun on him."

Kacey looked over at him, her optics widening. "He wouldn't have…"

"A mech protecting his females is wont to do anything," Ratchet said seriously. "Of course, it would seem that Jetfire was in the same position. In his mind Optimus was threatening his relationship with you, which he, of course, was determined to protect. Of course, it doesn't help that they're both incessantly violent morons." Ratchet shrugged and Kacey rolled her optics. "Oh, hello, Elita."

Kacey turned and near grimaced when her mother looked her directly in the optics from the doorway. Ratchet excused him quickly, leaving the two femmes alone with the unconscious Jetfire.

"Mom, look…" Kacey began, but Elita lifted one hand to cut her off.

"Kacey. Relax. I understand," Elita said gently, striding forward to pull up a chair, joining her eldest child at Jetfire's bedside. "Love is hard. Especially when it's forbidden. I know the feeling."

"You do?" Kacey inquired, surprised.

Elita grinned over at her, optics twinkling brightly. "The High Council wasn't so gung-ho about Optimus getting bonded. Nor about him having a relationship to begin with, actually."

"I…I didn't know. It seemed kind of like a fairy-tale romance to me."

"No such thing," Elita said grimly, reaching out to gently adjust Jetfire's brace. "Ratch always puts these things on too tight…anyway, every couple has its problems. Kacey, if you're in love then you have my blessing. I think we need to have a little chat about your choice in mechs, but…" She shrugged, and Kacey laughed. "I'm just kidding, of course. Jetfire is a good mech. He's callous and cocky and occasionally lazy, but he's never let Optimus down. He's a real Autobot, and I don't think there's anyone better for you. I had my hopes set on you and Bumblebee, but—"

"Mom?!"

"Well, he's much closer to your age!" Elita said defensively. "And he's so sweet, too, he'd be such a good mate—but it really is your choice, and I've always liked Jetfire. He's been a good friend to your father, and Optimus has always needed him."

"Dad doesn't seem to be quite as accepting of this," Kacey said glumly, and Elita laughed.

"He's being overprotective. His little femme is growing into a young lady and that scares him. When he comes to his senses he'll relax a little, don't you worry. Just because you'll have a mech at your side doesn't mean Optimus can't protect you anymore, he just needs to figure that out for himself. And keep in mind that your father has come across a lot of bad mechs in his time," Elita added, her optics darkening, and Kacey bowed her head slightly. "Cruel mechs, and not just within the Decepticon ranks. There are plenty of filthy Autobots as well, Kacey. As you've already learned. Of course, Optimus trusts Jetfire with his life. I'm sure he'll come to trust him with yours, as well."

"How is Dad?"

"He's been through much worse, don't you worry about him. If I hadn't shot him he'd probably still be awake and beating up on this poor guy," Elita snorted, patting Jetfire's arm sympathetically. The mech released a low groan, body shifting, and his optics came online slowly. He gazed up at the ceiling for a moment before his optics shifted, settling on Elita, and a stupid grin stretched his mouthplates.

"Knew you'd realize that your spark wanted me sooner or later."

"Don't be stupid," Elita chided, but she couldn't hide her smile. "I'm just here for Kacey."

"Aw, don't be like that, baby."

"Don't 'baby' me, I'll tie you down to that berth and torture you, you know I will."

"I love it when you talk that way," Jetfire purred, and Elita snorted before standing, giving her daughter a brief hug.

"I'll keep your dad off of your moron here for a little while," the older femme assured her daughter softly. "Just give him some time to cool down before you talk to him, alright?"

"Sure. Love you, Mom."

Elita kissed Kacey's helm warmly. "And I love you. Jetfire, behave yourself."

"Yes ma'am," Jetfire responded drowsily, and Elita nodded briskly before departing the room. Kacey turned back to her lover, reaching out to slip her fingers beneath his. He squeezed her small hand gently, exhaling deeply and shuttering his optics.

"You okay?" she inquired worriedly, and he cracked open an optic to look over at her, a slight smile lifting his lip components.

"M'fine. Tired. But that's probably the sedatives." He grimaced, shifting uncomfortably. "Any chance you could get this thing off for me? My neck is killing me…"

"Oh, sure…" Kacey leaned forward, frowning as she struggled with the clasps on the head brace. "Huh…how the frag does this thing…"

* * *

**Visit Plenoptic's LiveJournal to view the explicit content following this paragraph!!! Link can be found on my profile.**

* * *

"I dunno. You know...Most of the femmes I've had have all been about quick frags. But with you…I…" He trailed off, then looked directly at her, optics burning. "I love seeing you overload. I love seeing you writhe and I love hearing you cry out my name. I want to see you screaming in ecstasy." Kacey trembled when he moved closer, placing a hand on her thigh and brushing his mouthplates over her abdomen. "I didn't know interface could be like this," he commented softly. "This intimate. This intense. I thought that kind of stuff came with sparkbonding, not fragging around."

"We're not just fragging around, though," she breathed, reaching down to caress his face softly. "Mom always told me there was a difference between desire and lust. This is passion, not animalism."

"I guess." Jetfire fell silent, then abruptly launched himself forward, throwing her onto her back, pinning her hands above her head, kissing her hotly. "I've never wanted anyone this bad," he growled between kisses, hands pulling her lower body tightly against his. "I've never had anyone that I wanted to _own_. I've never wanted to rip the arms and legs off a mech who talked to my femme before." He pressed his foreplate to hers, optics on fire as he looked down at the beautiful femme beneath him. "I've never wanted to _bond_ to anyone before."

Kacey leaned forward to kiss him tenderly, relishing in the feel and taste of his lips. "I love you, Jetfire," she murmured, stroking his chestplates just above his spark. "I don't want you to ever doubt that. I'm just…"

"You're not ready," he confirmed. "I know that. I've known that from the second I fell in love with you. But my spark is here, and it's ready whenever yours is. Understand?"

She nodded, and as he moved in to kiss her once more, the door flew open.

"Oh, really?" Ratchet huffed irritably. "Kacey, for some reason I thought you were better than your parents."

"WHAT THE FRAG ARE YOU DOING, JETFIRE?!" Hotshot shrieked, forcing his way around Ratchet's imposing bulk and pointing on infuriated finger at his best friend. "GET OFF OF HER!"

"Relax, kid, they're the base's new hottest couple," Ratchet said flatly, seizing Jetfire by the shoulders and throwing him onto his back. "You're not to sit up, understand? And your vociferous making out has thrown your jaw back out of alignment, you'll have to wear the brace for a few days. Kacey, off the berth, I want him to lie down."

"Ratchet?! Why aren't you shouting at him?!"

"I make it a priority not to get involved in my patients' private lives," Ratchet said smoothly, and Kacey and Jetfire snorted in unison. Ratchet was known for locking his patients in rooms with mates to get them to sort out their differences or reestablish their sparkbond, even take some patients off the work roster if they struck him as a bit tired.

"Is this why the boss was so determined to beat your processor out of your helm?" Hotshot demanded angrily, rounding on the prone Jetfire.

"Guilty as charged," the shuttle said easily. "Look, kid, don't muck around in what you're too young to understand, okay?"

"I'm older than Kacey!" Hotshot growled. "Jetfire, this isn't okay, she's Optimus's daughter! I thought you respected him!"

"I do," Jetfire responded coolly, his voice taking on a dangerous note. "It's not like the others, Hotshot. This is different. I'm in love with this kid."

"Did you tell her that after or before you fragged her?" Hotshot demanded, and Jetfire sat bolt straight up, drawing a startled yelp from Ratchet.

"Shut the hell up," Jetfire snarled, optics narrowed to slits.

"You've claimed to be 'in love' with every femme you've bedded more than once," Hotshot snapped. Kacey hadn't ever seen the normally good-natured young cadet so angry. "And then boasted about how quickly you 'nipped that little problem in the bud!' Well, I won't let you do it to Kaceystar, I just won't! She's too precious to all of us!"

"Oh, frag off," Jetfire scoffed. "You're just angry because I made a move even though I knew how you felt about her."

Hotshot blanched, optic widening. Kacey stiffened and lowered her gaze automatically, glancing sideways at Jetfire, who was already looking horrified.

"Oh, Primus, kiddo—I didn't—"

"Forget it," Hotshot said shakily, turning to go out the door.

"Hotshot…"

"I said forget it!" the yellow mech snapped, whirling around to glare viciously at his best friend. "If you were half the friend you say you are, you'd have respected my feelings. But if I'm half the friend I claim to be, I'll remind myself that hey, that's just you being your usual jackass of a self, and I'll let it go." He turned his gaze on Kacey, and she flinched. "And I don't want to talk about it. Just forget it."

He turned back around and stormed from the room, leaving an awkward silence hanging in his wake.

* * *

**Aw shiz XD Please review? :3**


	3. Poena quod prejudice

**Chapter Three**

_Plenoptic_

**Nothing in particular to say here. Enjoy the chapter :3**

**Jetfire, Red Alert, Scavenger, Hotshot, and Red Alert are all Armada characters. I know **_**optimus prime 007**_** is familiar with Armada so I'm fulfilling a little creative flexibility here XD I love G1 but Armada is what I grew up on, so it's got a special place in my heart.**

**I never know what Optimus I'm using. I guess I'm using movieverse OP because that's what op007 uses.**

**Translation for previous chapter title:**

**Certamen is Latin for "conflict."**

* * *

Jetfire went into recharge feeling raw. His spark felt like Unicron had chewed on it and spat it back out, and Primus simply didn't feel fit to make it feel better. Sighing, he punched his cushion into a more comfortable shape and flopped down onto his front, scowling at the headboard.

Primus. Was he really going to have to choose between Kacey and his two best friends? He loved Kacey dearly, more than he'd ever even imagined it was possible to love a femme, but Optimus and Hotshot meant the world to him. Besides, who knew how his other comrades would handle it? Red Alert obviously hadn't been comfortable talking to him about it. Scavenger clearly disapproved—he hadn't stepped in to stop Optimus from pounding Jetfire to a pulp. Smokescreen hadn't said anything one way or the other, but Jetfire had a feeling that he wouldn't take to kindly to the news, either.

Deciding sleep simply wasn't going to come with his processor this addled, Jetfire released a frustrated sigh and swung his legs over the side of the berth, scrubbing his faceplate tiredly with one hand. A future with his sparkmate or a future with his dearest comrades. What a choice.

He slapped himself roughly, shaking his head hard. What was he thinking? That wasn't the way he was supposed to think! He was Jetfire, after all—the unstoppable optimist! He wouldn't have to choose one way or the other, he'd just make the others understand. He'd fight every mech on base if he had to. He loved his friends, but Kaceystar was in his spark now, and no way in Pit was he going to let her go! He'd make Optimus and Hotshot and Scavenger understand. Primus, he never thought his many femmescapades (now there was the play on words to beat them all) in his youth would ever come back to bite him!

Feeling better now that he had a plan, Jetfire flopped back over and shuttered his optics, making himself relax. He'd talk to Optimus tomorrow. Tackle the summit and then he'd work his way down. Yeah. Tomorrow he'd talk to Optimus. He had a plan.

But recharge still didn't come.

* * *

Jetfire wasn't the only one who wasn't getting any recharge that night.

Optimus Prime carefully rolled onto his back, scowling up at the ceiling. He hated recharging on the couch. Elita had been furious with him when he'd woken up, and his desire to go beat Jetfire again hadn't cooled her temper at all.

"They're in love!" she'd insisted angrily. "I know you're her father and I know you're protective of her, I am too, but this isn't our choice to make, it's hers! And Jetfire would be a wonderful sparkmate, you know that just as well as I do!"

Optimus's biggest mistake had been in fighting back. Perhaps if he'd just rolled over for her and agreed to think it over he'd be recharging comfortably in his berth, snuggling against his femme and dreaming of the many ways he could murder Jetfire in the morning. Instead he was stretched out on their couch in the family's living room, his legs dangling off the end and his head squashed awkwardly up against the opposite arm of the couch. Huffing irritably, he sat up and lowered himself onto the floor, pulling a cushion off the couch. Elita hadn't even been kind enough to supply him with a recharge blanket, and it was starting to get cold.

He stretched out, accidentally bumping his head on a nearby table leg. Rubbing his antennae, he groaned aloud. The floor was less comfortable than the couch, and there were a lot more things to hurt himself on down here, but at least he could stretch out his limbs. He woke up with the worst joint aches when he recharged curled up. He was getting old.

_Jetfire's just as old as I am!_ he noted, and then found himself falling back into his previous tirade. He'd have to watch the Godfather again, and see how to use that little rope to suffocate someone—

"Oh, for Primus's sake."

He sat up so fast he whacked his head on the table again. Lifting himself up slowly, rubbing his abused helm, he turned his head to see Elita standing nearby, arms folded over her chest and a bemused expression on her faceplates. His optics followed her as she strode around the couch to kneel in front of him. Primus, she was beautiful. Just looking at her made him feel hot and sent his spark into a whirlwind of activity. He wanted her so badly it made his whole body ache. It'd been a long time since they'd made love; they'd both been busy as of late. He sat up more fully, leaning forward to rest one hand on her thigh, sliding upwards toward her hip.

"Have you been thinking?" she questioned, and he flinched.

"I don't like it," he growled, and she glared at him. "Elita, I'm sorry, but it just doesn't sit well with me. Jetfire's my age, and she's so young…and she's so beautiful, Elita, and you know what Jetfire's like, who's to say he's not just…you know."

"Looking for a fun frag?" she finished, and he grimaced. "Optimus, be realistic. Kacey has a good head on her shoulders, or haven't you noticed that? She's been in relationships before, she knows what she wants in a mech. She's not just being desperate, either, you know any mech on base would fall over himself to be with her."

"I know that," Optimus said quietly. "But Jetfire…"

"Loves you, Optimus. You're his best friend and his dear comrade. He'd never, _ever_ do anything to disrespect you or hurt you."

"Trying to beat me to death doesn't constitute as hurting me?"

"You deserved that, and besides, you started it," she said flatly. "Jetfire likes his fun, I'll admit to that. Even he admits to that. But you know that underneath all that idiot covering is a really, really good mech. You wouldn't trust him so much if you didn't know he was a genuinely honorable and responsible bot."

Optimus hung his head. "I know you're right," he said quietly. "I just…why didn't he consult me first? Why didn't he ask my permission? And why Kacey, of all people?"

"In order, and truthfully? Your first two questions are pretty much answered by our little incident today, aren't they? He knew how you'd respond if he dared to bring up the idea of a relationship with Kacey. And honestly, Optimus, we knew there were going to be plenty of mechs falling in love with her. Jetfire only acts like a moron, I'm sure there's enough sense in his processor that he knows when he's honestly in love. Well. I hope."

"…I just can't bear the thought of her getting hurt," Optimus said softly, and Elita immediately drew him close, caressing his helm tenderly.

"She's not our little femme anymore, Optimus," she whispered, and the truth of it, and the pain that it brought, was felt powerfully in both of their sparks. "She's not the little sparkling she used to be."

"I just miss it so much," he breathed, holding his sparkmate tightly as if she could block the pain bombarding him on the inside. "I miss being able to carry her in my arms, I miss her recharging with me every night. I miss watching the sunrise every morning and I miss her depending on me for everything. I miss her calling me 'Father.'"

"You'll always be her father," Elita assured him gently, rubbing his back soothingly. "And you two are so close, Optimus. She's not going to let that go just because she's found a mate. She's going to love you until the end of time and you know it." She moved back slightly, just enough that she could take his handsome face into her hands. "I know change is hard. I know it's hard to watch them grow. But she is still our daughter." She gently rubbed away a spot of dried energon, brushed away a patch of dirt on his helm. "I feel like we've had this conversation recently."

"I'm sure we did," he said tiredly. "I want her to be happy, Elita. I just don't know if she's making the right choice."

"Only she can know that," Elita told him softly. "It's for her to decide now. If she's willing to sit by Jetfire's side all night just because of a busted jaw, then I'd say her feelings are pretty genuine, Optimus."

The Prime nodded, releasing a heavy sigh. "You're right. Again. How is it that you're always right?"

"Talent," she purred, leaning in to claim his mouthplates in a loving kiss. "Come on. You need recharge. You've got a lot of talking to do tomorrow."

* * *

For a long while Ironhide didn't even notice him. It was only when a drone blew up before he could shoot at it did he look over to see the yellow captain standing a few yards behind him, battle visor drawn over his optics, a scowl touching his mouthplates as he fired off round after round. Ironhide watched him absently; either the kid wasn't actually aiming or he was a really, _really_ bad shot.

Ironhide returned to his own shots, deciding that the other mech was best left alone. The shooting range was a good place to blow off steam. If the kid wanted to waste his ammo, so be it, so long as he was restocked before the next battle.

A solid two hours passed during which not a single word was exchanged. Ironhide and Hotshot were not close but not distant; not exactly friends but certainly not enemies. There was a generation gap between them, they each had their own friends and there was little intersection between their social circles. They were really only aware of each other as officers and for the profound roles that they had both played in Optimus's life.

The silence was not really companionable, but it was not uncomfortable either. Ironhide consented to believe that it was just two mechs enjoying the same shooting range. Mechs on the same team, with the same ideals and goals, and really that was all two Autobots needed between them.

And for that two hours it was simple. However, verging on hour three, Kacey decided to enter the range, and then life was complicated all over again.

"Morning," Ironhide grunted roughly, hitting the hold button on the wall and arching an optic ridge at the femme. Hotshot fired off three more rounds before realizing that the drones were no longer moving. Lowering his rifle and lifting his visor, he glanced around curiously and froze when his optics found the femme hovering nervously by the door.

Ironhide glanced from one young bot to the other, feeling that he was definitely missing a puzzle piece here. Not that he wanted to get involved anyway. Young bots and their stupid romances just gave him headaches. Muttering something about going to check up on Chromia (an unfounded excuse; she was likely still recharging), he folded up his cannons, turned off the drone simulator, and tromped past Kacey and out of the range, patting her on the head as he passed.

The silence that followed was awkward, to say the least. Kacey shifted her weight from one foot to the other, intensely occupied with one of Ironhide's scorch marks; Hotshot tapped his rifle against his thigh and rubbed his nose with one finger.

"Look," she blurted out abruptly, lifting her head to look at him desperately, "Hotshot—"

"Kacey—"

"What?"

"Oh, no, sorry, you—"

"No, go ahead—"

"Uhm, ladies first?"

"That's so weak—"

"Well, it's _awkward_!"

Kacey released a sigh of frustration. "Hotshot, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I truly am. I just…I hate myself for it, but…"

"For what?" he interjected immediately.

"For…I don't know. There's you, there's Rox, maybe even Bee…I'm breaking sparks left and right."

A pause passed between them, and then Hotshot released a bewildered little laugh. "Are you kidding? You're mad at yourself for being perfect?"

"I hate it!" she said heatedly, curling her hands into fists. "And stop laughing!" she added angrily, which only led Hotshot to snicker more.

"Kacey, Kacey, Kacey," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Man, you're young. I think we all forget just how young you really are. Primus, you're still just a kid. Look, Kacey, you're not perfect, because somewhere out there in the universe is someone who's better at something than you. And there's someone who's worse. It's the great equalizer. For instance," he said, hefting his rifle onto his shoulder, "I'm not the smartest mech in the world, like Wheeljack. I'm not as charismatic as Optimus, or as selfless as Jazz, or as witty as Jetfire, or as good with weapons as Ironhide, but hell, I'm the fastest thing on four wheels. And hey, I've persevered through some crazy stuff and I've never given up, and I take a lot of pride in that." He paused, then shook his head, smiling ruefully. "Huh. All the speed and courage in the world couldn't keep me from getting my spark broken, though."

"Hotshot…" She lost the words somewhere between thinking and speaking, so she simply bowed her head, staring hard at the ground as her vision blurred. She felt more than heard his heavy footsteps, and it suddenly struck her how much larger Hotshot was than she'd thought. He was getting to be almost Jetfire's size. So different from the apparently geeky recruit he'd once been.

"Kacey," he said quietly, placing his hands on her upper arms and pulling her into his chest. "Shh. It's okay. I understand. How could I not? You're in love with Jetfire." He paused, steeling himself, before continuing. "I want you to be happy, that's all. That's all. I came to Earth, Kacey…I came to Earth because I was so eager to meet you. Jetfire told me that Optimus had a daughter, and suddenly I just couldn't get here fast enough. I wanted to know what you were like. Optimus had always been something of a father to me. I had to know how I measured up to his real successors. And you were better than me. I wasn't surprised, but you gave me something to strive for."

"I'm sorry," she whispered again. "I'm sorry, Hotshot, I wish I could…if it weren't for Jetfire…"

"Don't talk like that," he interrupted her, shaking his head. "You don't wish you could have me instead. You love Jetfire, don't you? Besides, if he's the only factor between us, that means that in some crazy parallel universe, we're probably already sparkmates, right?"

Kacey laughed weakly, nodding against the strong armor of his chest. "She's out there, Hotshot," she assured him softly. "Somewhere out there is a femme who will really love you, who's better for you than I could ever be."

"I'm sure she is," he replied, nodding absently. One of his hands was rubbing her back; it reminded her of the way her father used to soothe her when she was upset. "Hell, if Jetfire can find his sparkmate, then surely there's hope for me."

"Of course there is," she murmured, and found herself unable to stave off a minute amount of disappointment when he parted from her gently. "Hotshot, have you ever been kissed?"

"What, hoping to steal my first kiss as well as my spark?" He arched an optic ridge and snorted, patting her head. "Yeah, Kacey, I have. Don't you worry about me. I'll be okay. I understand. No hard feelings, right?"

"Yeah. No hard feelings."

"Good," he said briskly, pulling her into one last crushing embrace before giving her a little push towards the door. "Now, go take care of that sparkling Jetfire. No doubt he's still smarting after that beating the chief gave him."

"No kidding. Thanks, Hotshot."

"Nah. Thank you, kiddo."

He put on his brightest smile and waved after her until the doors swooshed closed behind her, and only then did he let his knees find the floor. He brought both fists down onto the hard ground, denta gritted tightly, smile twisting into an expression of absolute anguish.

Damn.

When had Primus put this knife in his spark?

"Kacey," he groaned weakly, the sound coming out in an agonized growl. Damn it. Everything Scavenger and Jetfire and Optimus had taught him—about strength, about bravery, about being invincible, impenetrable—how had the femme managed to undo all those years of tutorage?! He'd spent his whole life working tirelessly, trying to prove himself, trying to become that glorious vision of a warrior he saw in his daydreams. How could just one femme get under his armor like this?!

There was a sharp pain in his back, and with a jolt he realized his coolant systems had shut down. His core temperature was rising steadily and with no sign of stopping. He could feel his joints locking, feel his internal wiring beginning to blister, pressed against his overheated armor, smothering any chance the superheated excess air had of escaping from his burning frame.

His vision was beginning to swim, going white as his optics overcharged. He blinked drowsily, allowing his arms to give way so that he hit the ground. Blinking sleepily at the cracked, scorched floor, he heaved a morose sigh, shuttering his optics lightly. What a damned awful time to get sick. Stress induced? Old shrapnel injuries, perhaps?

…Well. Whatever. Screw the reason. It would be nice to just go to sleep for a little while. Forget about Jetfire. Forget about Optimus. Forget about Unicron and the cold laughter, the dull roar that still haunted his nightmares.

Forget about Kacey.

…_Forget? Kacey?_

Forget about Kacey? Hah. Only if Primus rearranged some planets first…

* * *

Having survived a broken jaw, split armor, many taunts and teases, five missing bedpans, four wrenches to the forehead, and two more attempted murders from his best friend and leader, the

Autobot Air Commander was released from the medical bay by a very relieved Ratchet.

"And stay out," the CMO growled, blue optics narrowing as his chartreuse foot parted with Jetfire's aft. "No more antagonizing Optimus."

"I didn't antagonize anyone," Jetfire whined, but departed without any further remarks. His jaw had been wired shut for the past two Earth days, his aft was sore, his foreplate hurt, and the medical bay didn't have any good places to hide from his malicious, vengeful commander.

Jetfire wanted to see Kacey.

Tromping his way through the base, he made a beeline for the residential floor, his spark leaping at the thought of being alone with the femme again. She'd made as much time for him as she could during his stay in the med bay, but she was an active member of the base—she had duties to attend to, and Jetfire spent a considerable portion of his time under the influence of sedatives while Ratchet worked his jaw back into place.

They'd only been apart for two days, but already Jetfire felt lonely. It had felt like eternity since he'd held her, kissed her, spoken with her, reveled in her soft, lyrical voice…

"Jetfire?"

He spun around from where he'd been trying to hack into her room, something in his chest exploding distinctly at the sight of the femme standing nearby. Her cerulean armor was glittering faintly in the brightly lit hallway, ocean-esque optics blinking at him curiously as though she'd never seen him before.

In a single explosive movement he lunged forward, completely burying the femme in his thick arms and crushing her against his impressive frame. The energon cube in her hand hit the floor and shattered, but she was too caught up in him to notice. He was kissing her, fervently and with a hunger she'd never felt, his glossa and lips engaging hers in a fevered, long-delayed dance.

"J-Jet," she gasped, wrenching her mouth from his, turning her face when he tried to recapture her lips. "Jetfire, not in the hallway…please…"

"I don't care who sees," Jetfire growled softly, burying his face into her sinewy throat. "On the contrary, I _want_ them to see. I love you, and I want everyone to know."

"You may be an exhibitionist, but I refuse to sink to your level," she whispered jokingly, one small hand sneaking up to rub gently at his wing joint. The flier absolutely melted in her arms, groaning softly as a shudder wracked his frame. Primus, that felt nice…

"I missed you, kiddo," he sighed heavily, shuttering his optics lazily and enjoying the soft caress. "You've no idea."

"It was just two days," Kacey giggled, nuzzling his audio receptor gently. "You big sparkling. Hey, did you work things out with my dad?"

"Actually, he tried to kill me. Twice." Jetfire frowned, wrapping an arm around her waist and guiding her toward his quarters. "Did you make up with Hotshot?"

"Yeah, we're cool. Jetfire, do you need help?" she added innocently, frowning as his fingers groped clumsily at his access pad.

"Ugh, no, I'm okay," he grunted, frowning deeply and narrowing his optics at the numbers seeming to lift off the keys and swim before his optics. "I think your dad fragged up my processor pretty bad. Ah, got it…" The door slid back on its tracks, and Jetfire led his femme in, closing the door behind him and smirking when she busily began unlatching his armor.

"I really need to talk to your dad," he murmured, pressing his mouthplates to her forehead as she mouthed her way around his collar armor. "It won't help my case if I've got your paint smeared all over my armor, love."

"We'll clean up afterwards," she purred, sneaking her hands back up to his wing joint. He tipped his head back against the wall, optics shutters fluttering closed as a long groan came up from the deepest recess of his throat. "Come on, sweetspark, I've missed you."

"I need to talk to Optimus," he repeated, blinking away the haze that had crossed his vision. "Kase, please, I'll come see your right afterwards and you won't be able to get me off of you." He punctuated his words with a quick feel of her aft, smirking when she squeaked in dismay and batted his hand away. He dropped his hand obligingly—only to drop it down again, snatching her thigh and hitching her leg up over his hip. She moaned wantonly when he thrust his crotch against hers, grinding up against her and growling into her throat, biting at the soft metal.

"Thought you needed to talk to Father," she panted weakly, placing a hand on the back of his helm and pulling him in closer.

"Suppose I could wait," he breathed, tracing the smooth lines of her aft and thighs, enjoying the feel of his rising spike against his crotch armor. "After all, many a mech would kill to have the lovely Kaceystar pressed against him so eagerly…"

"Oh, stop," she groaned, shaking her head slightly.

He chuckled, nipping lovingly at her throat. "You don't want me to stop," he whispered, brushing his lips over her jaw as he spoke, vents spilling warm air over her frame. "You want me to take you here and now, on the floor, on the couch, my berth…anywhere, so long as you have me…"

Kacey whimpered, grinding eagerly against his thigh. Her intakes hitched harshly with each movement of his body against hers, processor clouding with lust with each heated kiss.

"Okay, just a quick one," he panted, shakily removing his crotch armor and attempting to soothe his straining erection. Kacey had her own crotchplate on in a second, climbing onto his hips and thrusting against him eagerly, trying to mount his hard spike.

"Hold on, hold on," he chuckled weakly, a wild grin spreading over his face. Primus, it'd been _vorns_ since he'd had a femme try to do it with him standing up! "Come here, femme, let ol' Jetfire take over…"

Kacey smiled blissfully, tucking her head under his chin as he gently maneuvered her onto his spike, groaning at the exquisite tightness of her port. She'd never felt this before—this wonderful balance of physical and emotional attraction for a mech.

"Jetfire," she murmured, kissing him softly to draw his attention to her. "Jet…"

"Mmm?" he groaned, throwing his hips up against hers, opening his optics in a daze and focusing on her blearily.

"I love you, Jet," she whispered, pulling his foreplate to hers and locking their gazes together. "I really, really do love you…"

He blinked twice before a smile touched his faceplates, and he leaned in to kiss her tenderly, tilting her head back to deepen their kiss. Her fingers brushed his cheek hesitantly, and he scooped her up without hesitation, holding her closer than she thought they'd ever been before.

The tender moment, however, was broken cleanly in half at a sharp rapping on Jetfire's door.

The couple froze for a moment, both staring in horror at the doorway, before Kacey scrambled to get off of her mechfriend. Jetfire placed his hands on her hips and lifted her off of him, groaning at the loss of her port, and replaced their crotchplates just as Optimus Prime hacked the access codes.

A long, tense silence passed—Prime swelling, optics darkening and face contorting, mouth pulling back in a growl; Jetfire standing stiffly, nervously, Kacey hovering at his side, one hand on his chestplates, the other wrapped around his waist in a protective sort of gesture.

"Dad," she began, keeping her voice low and soothing. Optimus twitched marginally, hands curling into fists, and Kacey hurriedly paged her mother. Optimus was still in a dangerous state of mind—he definitely wouldn't hurt his family, but Jetfire was a threat and therefore right in the line of fire. Again.

"Dad," Kacey repeated, releasing her hold on her lover to stand in front of him, craning her head to peer into her father's darkened optics. "Dad, snap out of it. Listen to me. Jetfire's done nothing wrong, understand? He hasn't hurt me. I love him, okay?"

Optimus's stance relaxed slightly, but his glowering gaze still didn't leave the pearly white flier standing rigidly before him.

Kacey couldn't help but breathe a long sigh of relief when she heard her mother's hurried footsteps. Elita One appeared behind her mate, panting slightly, looking panicked.

"Oh, good, he hasn't gone berserk yet," she sighed, stepping forward and placing a small hand on her sparkmate's lower back. Optimus didn't react to the touch; his focus was concentrated solely on Jetfire.

"Optimus," Elita murmured, stepping around him, keeping one hand on her mate at all times. As long as he knew she was near, Elita was sure that her huge mech wouldn't make any sudden movements for fear of hurting her. Likewise, though, she needed to move slowly to avoid upsetting him. "Optimus, please relax, love. Just calm down and listen to what Jetfire and Kacey have to say, hm?"

"…No."

"Pardon?"

"_No_," Optimus growled, his lips curling around the word in a low snarl. "_He's_ the only one I want to talk to."

"Dad…" Kacey began, but Jetfire placed one hand on her shoulder, shaking his head when she looked up at him in surprise.

"No, Kase. It's okay." He lifted his head, meeting his commander's gaze steadily. "We'll talk, Optimus, if that's what you want."

Optimus nodded curtly, turning on one heel and marching from the room without another word. Jetfire shrugged one shoulder at his lover, offered the worried Elita a reassuring smile, and then departed after his leader.

* * *

**Would keep writing, but…terribly tired. I know it's been forever since I've posted anything, it seems I've hit yet another wall :/ However, the next New Beginnings chapter is nearly done, and then I suppose I'll work on some other things I've yet to hit…I am slowly getting back on track. Anyway, this is just a brief chapter to set up some final conflict resolution, and then we can get into the development (and problems) of Jet and Kacey's relationship :D I've never actually written about a couple that seems like they could have problems, but somehow Jet and Kacey just seem perfect for some serious fights…I can't wait XD Hope you enjoyed, reviews are so loved!!!**


	4. Morbus

**Chapter Four**

_Plenoptic_

**Reviews, reviews, reviews…:D**

**The brilliant authoress for whom this fic is written has lost her mother recently, so I shall go out of my way to make this chapter particularly awesome. Its awesomeness is enhanced by the fact that I am working on it partially at school. Because, yes, I am that epic.**

**Love you :D **

* * *

Jetfire felt rather like he was walking towards his certain and untimely doom. Optimus led them up, up, up to the highest levels of the base and then past that, surpassing the residential quarters and the science labs and finally opening a door to Wheeljack's glass dome observatory. Jetfire stepped in silently, dipping his head meekly as he passed his commander. He and Optimus may have been friends, but right now, Jetfire's deeply ingrained ancient Cybertronian programming was scolding him for displeasing his Prime. It wasn't a good feeling. Jetfire decided he'd prefer to have Starscream run him through than have Optimus angry with him.

The Prime shut the door with a snap, and the shuttle flinched, attempting to shrink within his pearly white armor. This was it. He was going to be killed, no doubt about it. Optimus was going to lop off his extremities one by one, ending with the head, and then use his assorted body parts for a game of impromptu hockey in the hallways—

"Jetfire."

The sound of his own name startled him, and Jetfire turned quickly to face his commander.

"Sir?" he responded nervously, tucking his chin and staring up at his best friend from underneath the heavy fringe of his helmet, peering anxiously over the rim of his golden battle mask. Kacey hated the thing, but Jetfire was beginning to see the practical application.

Optimus seemed to regard his tall aerial commander for a moment, his optics moving over Jetfire's body in a brief sweeping motion. Sizing him up, his soldier instincts automatically calculating odds and outcomes if things were to get violent. Optimus silenced that programming. He was more than a soldier, and the time for fighting had passed. It was time to _talk_.

"Can I trust you?" he asked at length, clasping his hands behind his back and facing his second calmly. Jetfire blinked in surprise—_that_ hadn't been at all what he'd been expecting.

"Did you hear me?" Optimus inquired, arching an optic ridge slowly when the shuttle offered no reply. "Jetfire, can I trust you?"

"Sure, I…yeah…" Jetfire shook his head once, clearing his thoughts. He faced his commander squarely, setting his jaw and looking confidently into those piercing blue orbs. "Of course you can. I've followed you into black holes and back out again. I've dragged you off the battlefield. I've put my life on the line to protect your sparkmate. You are my best friend, my Prime, and the greatest soldier I have ever had the honor of serving with. Optimus, you can trust me with your life."

"But can I trust you with Kacey's?" Optimus asked softly. For the briefest of moments, Jetfire halted—shuttered his optics, dipped his head, searched his spark.

He didn't have to search long.

"I love her," he said decidedly, whipping his head back up, optics glaring fiercely, gold meeting blue. "I love her more than I've ever loved anything or anyone else. You can trust no one with her life if you can't trust me."

Again, Optimus considered, but then his gaze softened, and he broke into a light smile. "You're a mech among mechs, Jetfire. As much as I'd like to keep Kacey my little sparkling forever, I suppose I have to, how the humans say, 'cut the apronstrings' eventually, don't I."

"Optimus…" Jetfire began, but couldn't continue, too overwhelmed by the relief pumping through him. "Just like that, Boss?"

"Oh no, not quite," Optimus said flatly. "You're going to court her properly, understand? I realize you've already…well, you know…but from here on out, you take it in baby steps, one piece at a time. You take her out on proper dates, and she will be escorted by Scavenger or Prowl. You will not be alone with her behind closed doors, and you will _not_ be spending any time in her quarters, nor she in yours. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," Jetfire sighed, some of his relief shriveling up and dying quickly. "And, uh, how long until said restrictions are loosened?"

"As long as I want," Optimus retorted, grinning, laughing out loud when Jetfire visibly wilted. "Come now, Jetfire, if you love her like you say you do, you should be happy I'm letting you within a hundred yards of her."

"Does that mean you're officially condoning our blossoming romance?" Jetfire asked hopefully.

Optimus chuckled. "Oh, _hell_ no."

* * *

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"You're kidding!"

"No joke. And you know I love my jokes."

"That's awesome!" Kaceystar cheered, leaping onto her mech and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, beaming up into his handsome face. "Just like that, Jetfire!" She pulled him down to her level, tilting her head and bringing her lips to his, but he jerked back and moved her off gently with his hands on her waist.

"Sorry," he said quickly, grimacing at her hurt expression. "Your dad said I can't kiss you until after our sixth date. And, er, I'm not technically supposed to be touching you…"

"Oh, for the love of Primus!" she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "He _does_ know we've already interfaced, doesn't he?"

"Come on, Kacey, I don't mind doing this right," he said gently, risking a quick caress of her astoundingly beautiful faceplate. "We did kind of rush into things, babe."

"I guess so…" She brightened, a devious smile crossing her face. "But did he say that _I_ can't kiss _you_?"

Jetfire paused, considering. "I guess not…but, Kacey—mmph-!"

He jerked back in surprise when her mouth covered his, kissing him sweetly, hands making a fast sweep down the long planes of his wings to meet at the sensitive joint. He released a moan as her thin fingers slipped in, teasing receptors and tugging wires, coaxing another groan from his mouth into hers.

"Seriously, do you want me to die?" he gasped, breaking their kiss and panting softly against her lips, which she refused to withdraw. "Your dad will murder me in my sleep, Kase, really he will…"

"You're not to touch me, correct? But he never told either of us that I can't touch you, Jet…"

"And you think I can hold myself back with the most beautiful femme in the universe touching me like that?" he growled, nipping at her lower lip before leaning in to mouth lovingly at her throat. "We're breaking all sorts of parental rules, lover."

"And since when do you adhere to rules?" she purred softly, and at that moment he'd never been more grateful to have a berth behind him. He fell back, the femme following him with all the fluid grace of water, holding herself above his prone body while her sweet mouth assaulted his. His hands found her waist and he pulled her down against him, thrusting his hips up against hers at the mere feel of her warm body on his—

"_Alright, you two, break it up_!"

The lovers separated with a jerk, staring in horror at the grinning mech in the doorway.

"Juh…Ja…JAZZ!" Jetfire fairly roared, his shock ebbing fast to be replaced with furious indignation. "Get the hell out of here, you stupid-aft twit!"

"Um, no, I don't think so," Jazz laughed, planting his hands on his hips, a triumphant smile playing across his devilishly handsome face. "Optimus put me on official couple-watching duty. And you two aren't supposed to be together behind closed doors, nor are you supposed to be touching or kissing her, Jet. You only get two strikes before you're out, and you can already chalk one up on your record!"

"Oh, this is ridiculous! How the hell am I supposed to pursue a healthy relationship if I can't even touch my femme?"

"You heard the Boss—baby steps, Jet, baby steps!"

"Whatever," Jetfire growled, wrapping his arms around his startled femme's waist and dropping her onto the berth below him. "Get out of here, and close the door behind you."

Jazz sighed, shaking his head, amused. "Oh dear. He warned that you might get like this. Scavenger, would you give me a hand, please?"

"Wait, what? Scavenger?" Jetfire drew back when the incredibly huge mech ducked to squeeze in through the doorway. The bounty hunter was scowling, his neon yellow optics darkening to a dangerous bronze as he set sight on his prey. "H-Hey, Scav, what's up? How—HEY! PUT ME DOWN, YOU STUPID OLD FRAGGER! HEEEYY!"

Despite what the situation meant for her relationship (and rapidly growing interface drive), Kacey couldn't help but to laugh as Scavenger stomped his way into the flier's room, seized him by that sensitive wing joint, and promptly dragged him from the berth, poor Jetfire clawing at the floor and scrambling for handholds the whole way.

"Sorry about that," Jazz said with a grimace, turning back to Kacey. "Rules are rules, though. If you want this thing with Jet to work, Kase, you'll have to play by the Boss's rules."

"I'll try," she replied, heaving a dramatic sigh. The saboteur's laugh was interrupted by his squawking comm. link; holding up a hand to motion Kacey into silence, he tilted his head to the side, listening intently.

"Frag," he said aloud, frowning. "In the shooting range? And he hasn't woken up yet?...Well, have they identified the cause?"

"What's wrong?" Kacey whispered, stepping towards her friend and touching his arm. "Jazz…?"

He waved his hand, handsome face darkening as he listened. "…Yeah. Yeah, I got it. I'll tell her. No…yeah. Keep me updated." He closed the link, turning back to the anxious femme. "Don't freak out, okay?"

"Jazz, what's happened?"

"Hotshot," he said grimly, and she felt her spark drop into her feet. "Sunny and Sides found him unconscious in the shooting range a few breems ago. Apparently he'd been there for awhile."

"He was in the shooting range last I saw him," she said weakly. "But that was…that was _hours_ ago. Oh, Primus, what's wrong?"

"That's what they're trying to figure out. Doesn't look like a virus." Jazz looked worried, downright frightened, and that only served to terrify Kacey even more. Carefree and uninhibited Jazz—afraid? "Let's get down to the medical bay, okay? Figure out what in the Pit is going on."

* * *

The waiting area of the medbay was already occupied when Jazz and Kacey arrived. Scavenger was hulking in the corner, arms crossed over his chest and his face in shadow; Jetfire was leaned up against a wall nearby, fidgeting nervously and glancing periodically at the chronometer on the wall; Optimus sat still and silent in a chair, hands clasped between his knees and his head hung low. Sideswipe, Sunny, and Bumblebee were all seated quietly on the floor, murmuring amongst themselves, while Smokescreen floated from worried mech to worried mech and chattered reassuringly to anyone who would listen.

"Dad," Kacey said anxiously, moving forward to kneel in front of him. "Anything yet?"

Optimus shook his head slowly, robotically, his optics dimming. She hovered helplessly before him, wanting him to take charge, say something reassuring, act the Prime they all knew he was and more, but he was still. A dear comrade was dying from unknown causes, and it terrified him.

The doors swung open, and Prowl and Elita entered, both looking harried and worried.

"Optimus," Elita said quietly, dropping to her knees at her mate's side, small hands touching his forearm as she looked imploringly up at him. "Optimus, it's all right."

"It's not a virus, Lita. They don't know _what_ it is," Optimus said weakly, turning his head marginally to meet his beloved's gentle blue optics. "He's crashing. And they can't fix him."

"I beg your pardon?" Prowl demanded suddenly, making them all jump. He had his fingertips to his audio, his head turned aside slightly as he spoke into his comm. link. "Ratchet, repeat that."

A tense silence followed. Prowl's optics widened and then narrowed, his jaw clenching tightly as he listened to the medic. Jazz stepped forward, dropping his head against his lover's shoulder with a moan. Prowl took his hand and squeezed his fingers tight.

"Optimus," he said raggedly at last, turning to face his distraught commander. "Ratchet has requested that we put a quarantine unit in place around the medical bay and move the base to Def-Con Four."

Elita's jaw dropped; Jetfire inhaled sharply and grabbed Kacey's hand almost on instinct, squeezing until she winced.

"_What_?" Optimus croaked, optics wide and horrified. "Def-Con _Four_? What the Pit is going on in there?"

"Ratchet does not want to release an official announcement until he's absolutely sure," Prowl said quietly. Code for 'something bad.' A shudder passed through the group. "Until then, he has asked that we all leave this area immediately and make the medical bay completely off-limits to everyone except those expressly asked for by Ratchet. Also, anyone showing Hotshot's symptoms is to be confined to their quarters until they can be taken by a medic to the medical bay."

"Then this thing—whatever it is that Hotshot has—is infectious," Jetfire surmised shakily. "Alright. Good enough for me. Let's go, Kacey."

"Agreed," Optimus said furtively. "Everybody out."

"But what about Hotshot?" Smokescreen demanded indignantly.

"We can't do anything," Optimus said firmly, optics hardening. "He would not want us to contract whatever is that ails him. We get out of here, as far away as possible, keep our lines open for Ratchet, and we don't let _anyone_ near this medbay."

The others followed their Prime somewhat grudgingly, with the exception of Jetfire, who was all but pushing his lover out the door. Optimus kept a hand on Elita's lower back, his expression unreadable; Prowl grasped Jazz's hand and pulled him along behind him, with Scavenger and Smokescreen glumly bringing up the rear.

Within two breems, the entire base was in lockdown. All of the floors below the medical bay were off limits; everyone on base was confined to the upper two levels. Mechs crammed into quarters together, others made themselves comfortable in the command center, and for the first time since the construction of Autobot City, everything ground to a halt. Only the oldest bots could remember there ever having been a medical quarantine in their time with the Autobots.

As they always did in a time of crisis, each and every one of Optimus and Elita's children wound up huddled together in their parent's quarters—with a few additions. Galen sat anxiously with Ariel, petting her back gently to quell her soft sniffles; Jetfire was seated on the floor in front of the couch, leaned up against Kacey's legs while she stroked his helm. Leo was sandwiched between his parents, resting his head against his father's shoulder. Optimus and Elita's hands were entwined as always, his head leant over to press gently against hers. Starfire was snoozing in her mother's lap, completely oblivious to the crisis going on around her. Orion sat at Jetfire's side, face glum and optics trained on the floor.

There came a soft knock upon the door, which the eldest son jumped up to answer, and in came Moonracer with Kayla trailing shyly behind her.

"Hi," she sighed, cocking her head to the side and smiling wistfully. "Aren't you all a sorry bunch."

"Thanks," Elita said dryly.

"Come on, now, it's not the end of the world," Moonracer said gently, stepping forward to clasp her commander's hand. "Someone come with me to the rec room to get some energon. By the time we're back, I'm sure there'll be some good news coming in from the rec room. Come on, Orion, Kayla, how about you two?"

"Sometimes I wonder how Ratchet won her," Optimus chuckled quietly as the femme and younglings exited the family's apartment. "She's a wonderful femme."

Jetfire grunted his assent; Elita nodded. Neither of them particularly in the mood to discuss the intricacies of their friends' relationships. Optimus sighed heavily and pulled both Leo and Elita (and in effect, Starfire) into an encompassing hug, which both accepted with no complaint.

_:I know you're thinking this is your fault,:_ Jetfire commented over a private line to the femme upon which he rested.

_:I'm not,:_ Kacey defended, but there was no conviction in her words.

_:There's no possible way it could be. It's not like Hotshot's never been rejected before. This is a mess, yeah, but it's not your fault in any way, got that?:_

Kacey nodded glumly, reaching down to place a hand on Jetfire's shoulder, which he covered with his own, squeezing gently.

:_Jetfire?:_

:_Yeah?:_

_:Would you love me even if it was my fault?:_

He tipped his head back to look up at her, his optics glinting like golden fire over the rim of his mask. _:I couldn't stop even if I wanted to.:_

Her face softened, delicate fingers reaching out to lightly trace the outlines of his mask. Optimus and Elita, having seen the whole interaction, exchanged a look, Elita's face darkening in an "You-better-not-interrupt-them" expression. Optimus huffed quietly and leaned back, pretending not to notice when his daughter pulled away Jetfire's mask to steal a kiss.

And it was then that the Prime's comm. link went off.

The entire room fell into complete silence; Leo looked up anxiously from his hiding place in his mother's encompassing arms, and both Jetfire and Kacey's heads snapped around. Jet climbed to his feet, replacing his mask and straightening up like the sub-commander he was, giving Optimus a confident nod. Optimus returned it, touched his fingers to his audio, and took a breath. "Yes?"

"It's me," Ratchet said quietly, his voice barely audible. Prime's fingers twitched, and he felt Elita's small hand slide under his own, grasping him gently.

"What's the situation, Ratchet?"

"Keep the base in Def-Con Four. Do not lift the quarantine on the medical bay. No one comes in or out except patients displaying Hotshot's symptoms. They are to go to the medical bay ASAP, with no escorts. Avoid potentially infected bots at all costs. Do not go anywhere near them. Please relay this message to the rest of the base."

"Ratchet, wait, don't hang up," Optimus said urgently, sitting forward, optics narrowing. "What's going on? What are we dealing with here?"

There was a long pause, filled only by the sound of the soft clicks of Jetfire's wings as he twitched them nervously. Optimus got slowly to his feet.

"I don't know how it happened, Optimus," Ratchet almost breathed, his voice trembling. "I don't know how it _got_ here. I thought we'd wiped it out. I thought we were done with—"

"Ratchet, stay with me here—what _is_ it?"

"It's a Rust Plague."

The silence that followed fell like a several ton weight on Optimus's shoulders; his knees buckled slightly and Jetfire leapt forward to catch him as he swayed dangerously to the side.

"No," Optimus croaked out, his composure cracking and falling to pieces. "_No._"

"Optimus," Jetfire breathed anxiously, gripping his best friend's shoulders tightly. "Hey, what's wrong…?" Elita slipped off the couch and crouched down as her sparkmate slumped to the ground, tentatively touching his faceplate. Optimus dropped his face into his hands, shaking his head slowly, fighting between utter denial and utter despair.

"Ratchet," Jetfire said shakily, turning on his comm. link and tuning it to the medic's frequency. Elita, Leo, and Kacey quickly followed suit. "What the Pit is going on here?" He listened quietly for a moment, then released a long groan, shuttering his optics. Elita had both arms around her mate, his head tucked under her chin, and was soothing him in soft Cybertronian. Her inquiring optics lifted to gaze at the Autobot vice commander as he lowered his head into his hands, armor clinking softly as he trembled.

"Alright," he said raggedly after a moment, lifting his head. "Thank you, Ratchet. Do whatever you have to do. We all trust your judgment, got it? Do your best." He closed the link and got heavily to his feet, extending a hand to his femme. "Kacey. You come with me. Elita, I want you to stay here with Optimus, alright? Leo too."

"I'm fine," Optimus murmured, separating himself from Elita and making to get to his feet.

"No," Jetfire said shortly. "I don't want you setting foot outside these quarters."

"And why not?" Optimus demanded, chestplates inflating in irritation. "I am Prime—I need to be there for my troops in this time of crisis."

"No, you need to be in here, where it's safe," Jetfire argued, waving a hand around the quarters. "Where that infection can't touch you. Optimus, if we lose you, there's little hope for us. Granted, your star here," he added, resting a hand on Kacey's shoulder, "would carry us through. But she's young. I don't want to place the mantle of leadership on her shoulders anymore than you do. You need to survive this. You and your family are to stay inside, understood?"

"I won't ask you to take a risk that I wouldn't take," Optimus said, optics full of distress. "And you can't expect Kacey to go out if I can't."

"Kacey is a big femme now," Jetfire sighed. "Let's face it, even if we tell her not to, she's going to go out anyway. Might as well put her influence on base to use. If she's calm, everyone else will be calm. But right now our bots deserve to know what's going on, Optimus, and I think Kacey should be the one to deliver the news."

"Me?" Kacey breathed, her optics widening. "I…I don't know if I…"

"I can do it if you can't," Jetfire assured her gently, cupping her face in his hand. "But the Autobots trust you. They trust you with their lives, all of them, and they love you. If you present the news calmly, they'll definitely handle it. If Optimus goes out into a hazard zone and presents the news calmly, they'll probably handle it. If I even try to present the news calmly, they'll maybe handle it. There's no pressure, Kacey, but…"

"Right," she snorted, shaking her head. "No pressure." She sighed, turning her gaze to her distraught father. "Dad. I don't want you out there. We won't make it without you. Please, let me be the one to take this risk. You've dealt with the plague before, right? I've researched it, you've been exposed before so you're much more vulnerable. I need to learn how to handle this sort of thing anyway."

Optimus and Elita exchanged a long look, no doubt communicating silently over their sparkbond. At length they both turned to their daughter, faces resigned but optics full of fear.

"Be careful," Optimus said quietly, reaching out to take his daughter's hand. "Don't go anywhere near the medical bay. Stay close to Jetfire, alright?"

The flier cracked a grin, his optics twinkling. "Do my audios deceive me? Telling me to stay close to your baby femme?"

"Don't get used to it," Optimus growled out, throwing a mock punch at his best friend's head. "Kacey, I'm serious. Please be careful, dearspark."

"Will do, Father," she said gently, accepting the tight embrace into which she was pulled. "You and Mom stay here, look after the younglings, alright? I've got the base under control."

Optimus nodded briskly, turning to his right hand mech. "Jetfire. I'm instating you as temporary commander of the base. Hopefully Ratchet and the others will be able to keep this outbreak contained and get Hotshot back up and running in no time."

"Yes, sir," Jetfire said in a rare moment of solemnity, clasping the hand Optimus placed on his shoulder. "I'll round up the old team, get the base in order. No worries."

"Be _careful_," Optimus reiterated, nodding his head toward Kacey. "Especially with her. If you love her like I think you do, you won't take any risks."

"Not with Kacey," Jetfire said firmly, golden optics burning. "Not with her."

"I'm right here, you know," she huffed, scowling at the two most important mechs in her life. "And can certainly hear every word you're saying…"

"Then we don't have to repeat ourselves," Jetfire smirked, slinging an arm around her shoulders.

"Kacey," Leo piped up, for the first time in a while. "Kacey, you'll be careful, right?"

"Of course I will."

"Don't get sick," he said seriously, and the slight threat in his voice almost made her laugh, but for his sake she held her composure.

"I won't." The conviction in her own voice surprised her a little, and she found that she actually believed herself. No, she would not fall ill. She would rise up, she would carry her Autobots through this crisis.

It would be her first challenge as a Prime.

* * *

It had been a long, long time since the base had been so quiet, so deathly, eerily quiet. Probably not since the long period of recovery following Megatron's siege on the base, in which both Elita and Leo had been seriously wounded. The air itself hung tense and silent, so quiet that each of their footfalls fell like thunder in the command center.

Jetfire explained the situation in low tones to the officers assembled on the command deck—Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide, Ultra Magnus, Wheeljack, Scavenger, Chromia, and Bumblebee—while Kacey hovered awkwardly by his side, knowing that she should take control but not quite having figured out how.

"I don't get why Optimus is having Kacey do this," Ironhide noted, frowning.

"Optimus is highly susceptible to the plague," Jetfire explained calmly. "And if he dies, we'll likely lose Elita too. Then the little ones. Then maybe even Kacey."

"So you're saying we should cut out losses?" Ironhide demanded, arching one thick optic ridge. "If we _have_ to use one of Prime's family, we should use the most expendable?"

Jetfire moved so fast it took even a processor as sharp as Kacey's a moment to realize what had happened. The titanic white mech had Ironhide by the throat and pinned up against the wall, snarling viciously, golden optics glinting with fire over his mask. For one startling moment, Kacey saw Jetfire for the warrior he was. He may have been a slacker, a lazy good-for-nothing in the command center, and a half-bit strategist, but he wasn't the vice commander of the Autobot army for no reason. He was a soldier to the core, every bit as fierce as Optimus Prime when angered, and for some reason, that sent a tremor of fear through Kacey's spark.

"Hey, stop, stop," Bumblebee said anxiously, stepping forward. Scavenger followed suit, but Jetfire interrupted him with a snarl.

"_Don't touch me!_ Did you hear what this bastard said?"

"What did you just call me?" Ironhide snarled out, one heavy hand gripping Jetfire's wrist. Chromia took a step forward, pulling her double-barrel plasma rifle from subspace, ready to back up her mate; Prowl's optics narrowed; Jazz and Wheeljack looked nervous; and Ultra Magnus hovered, evidently unsure of how to react.

"Alright," Kacey said, finally pulling her wits together. "That's enough. Let him go, Jet." When her lover did no such thing, in fact hoisting his captive a little higher, she spoke again the most authoritative voice she could muster. "_Jetfire_. I said, _let him go._"

Another tense moment passed, and then his fingers loosened, dropping Ironhide the short foot or so to the floor. Ironhide remained tensed, but Kacey was relieved to see that there wasn't even any bruising along the sensitive wires of his neck. Jetfire had been asserting himself, but had not been aiming to hurt.

"We're all stressed here," she went on quietly. "But if we can't depend on each other, we can't depend on anyone. Agreed?" She turned to Ironhide. "I did this of my own free will. I don't want my father out here where he's exposed to the plague. Nor does Jetfire. These are steps taken to protect our Prime. He won't be put in harm's way if I can help it." She turned her attention to her silently sulking mechfriend. "Jetfire, you overreacted. Apologize."

Jetfire sighed, but turned grudgingly to his comrade. "…Look, man, I'm sorry. Stressed, you know. Upset. Took it out on ya."

Ironhide grunted, waving a hand in dismissal. "Nah. I said stupid stuff. We were both outta line."

The atmosphere softened once more, the mechs exchanging brisk, brotherly slaps on the back (Ironhide perhaps a little harder than absolutely necessary—payback was a bitch) before the small assembly turned to Kacey.

"So now what?" Bumblebee wondered aloud, frowning. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Well, we need someone in constant communication with med bay," Kacey ventured, glancing subtly at Jetfire and taking comfort in his approving nod. "So, Jazz, could you stay in the communication booth? Switch shifts with Blaster as needed."

"Sure thing, milady," he chirped agreeably, and with a brief stolen kiss from Prowl he was off, zipping up the stairs to the huge communications booth above.

"And we'll need an established security radius around medbay—no one goes in or out without proper authorization," Kacey went on, furrowing her optic ridges in concentration. "Prowl, can I trust that to you and Red Alert?"

"Of course," the SIC said smoothly, nodding his sleek head. "You can count on me."

"I know," she said, smiling warmly. "Now, with Red preoccupied, we'll need someone else managing security and patrols, as well as keeping the troops under thumb, with Prowl elsewhere. Ironhide, Chromia?"

"On it," the bonded pair chorused, grinning and hefting their impressive weapons. Jetfire and Bumblebee both eyed the couple apprehensively as they skirted around the group to Prowl and Red Alert's respective stations in the command center.

"Ultra Magnus, Bumblebee, I wonder if you could keep an optic and audio open for my mother and father, in addition to your usual duties," Kacey asked, turning to her two dear friends. "I mean, with them cooped up in their quarters, and with my brothers and sisters…"

"Of course, Kacey," Magnus said, while Bumblebee whistled his approval, bouncing on his toes. "We'll keep a line open."

"Thank you," she sighed, but hesitated before turning to her second to last comrade. "Wheeljack. Feel free to say no…"

"You want me to help Ratch in medbay?" the engineer guessed, grinning at her startled look. "Even though you know it's dangerous? And I can say no if I don't want to lay my life on the line? Relax, Kase. I _want_ to be in medbay, helping crack this thing like a walnut. I was going to go even if you ordered me not to."

"I sort of thought as much," she sighed, but a relieved smile broke on her face. "Thanks, 'Jack. Tell Prowl I sent you. Comm me if he doesn't buy it."

"Will do," the inventor said lightly, and made his merry way out of the command center.

"What about me?" Scavenger inquired, folding his immense arms over his chest. "No orders, your highness?"

"I kind of get the feeling you won't listen anyway," Kacey noted. "I mean, you're a mercenary, right? Not exactly an Autobot. I can't tell you what to do."

He lifted his head, yellow optics blazing defiantly down at her. Jetfire scooted back a little, wary of his old mentor (more so since said mentor had sat back and allowed the Prime to beat Jetfire half to death). "Now listen here, missy. I may not be enlisted, but I'm no less an Autobot than you are. I'm going to medbay to check on my pupil, thankyouverymuch."

"You go in, you can't come back out," Jetfire warned. "We're not taking any chances here."

Scavenger cleared his throat, delivering his old friend a rough grin. "Frankly, m'dear, I don't give a damn."

And with that the old mech trotted off, head held high and shoulders raised.

"…Been keeping up with his Earthan cinema," Jetfire noted after a moment, grinning awkwardly down at Kacey, who was looking torn between crying and laughing hysterically.

"Apparently," she said weakly. "Jetfire, should I really just let him go? If he gets sick…"

"Scavenger is Scavenger," Jetfire said flatly. "He's completely incapable of death. It's just not possible." When she remained unconvinced, he slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tightly against his side. "I'm not kidding. Did you know that he once joined the Decepticons undercover for your dad? Only mech to have ever double-crossed the 'Cons and lived to tell the tale. Walked right out on 'em and came to us with his damn noseplates in the air."

"I didn't know that," Kacey commented, genuinely surprised, looking up at her mech in awe. "Was Megatron mad?"

Jetfire barked out a laugh. "_Was Megatron mad?_ As the humans would say, no _shit_, Sherlock. I thought the freak was going to blow out his circuit board, he was so angry. We steered clear of that mother, let me tell you that much. Primus forbid any of us had gotten in his way, he would have broken us in half to get back at Scavenger."

Kacey laughed, and Jetfire felt his spark swell at the light sound, optics softening as he watched her. She really was a wonderful femme. Primus, how many times had he thought that over the last few days?

"C'mere," he intoned softly, and she quieted at once, surprised when he leaned in and kissed her gently, tightening the arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. She'd only just begun to enjoy it when he pulled away once more, pecking her lovingly on the noseplates before straightening back up to his proud height.

"I love you," he said lightly, then winked down her. "And one more thing—don't tell Optimus about that."

"Probably a good idea," she sighed, rolling her optics. "Honestly, Jetfire, I don't think Megatron is the one you need to worry about."

He barked out a laugh, patting her helm with one immense hand. "No, no, probably not. Don't worry, Optimus has never put me in the med bay more than once a vorn, so his quota is filled for now."

"He's done it before?"

"Oh, Primus, yeah." He laughed again, shaking his head. "You should have seen it, this one time—your dad was in med bay so I was acting as commander for a while. We got some hostiles hanging around base, this bastard named Thrust and some of his cronies, so I headed up there on my own to kick 'em out—wound up in over my head and your poor old mech had to drag himself out of bed and bail me out. He proceeded to beat me into the ground and then went back to strict bedrest for the next two weeks."

Kacey was laughing so hard she was nearly on her knees, clutching her abdomen with one hand and holding onto Jetfire for the other. He joined her in spite of himself, in spite of the tremulous state of the base and in spite of the severity of Hotshot's condition. The femme was like that—one smile from her and suddenly the entire universe seemed so much brighter.

And then Jazz sprinted down from the communications dome, and everything went to Pit.

"Kacey," he panted, catching up to she and the vice commander, pausing for breath with his hands on his knees. "Kacey, we've got incoming—"

"Incoming what?" Jetfire demanded sharply, all traces of laughter gone at the look on Jazz's normally cheerful faceplate. "What's going on, Jazz?"

"_Decepticons_," Jazz gasped out. "Kacey, we've got Decepticons on our borders!"

* * *

**Dun dun DUUUUUN.**

**Music for today: All About Us by TATU **

**On another note, I'm FINALLY done with school this year. Whooooooot~! So look forward to some extra updates, I know I've been suspiciously quiet these past few months XD**


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